In the still of night,
. . . a voice
becomes Dawn's first light
Where every shadow meets its end
Reverie ascends skyward:
a final page turned
, weary lines
of hope, once written
now unwind
......
No more will I make life freeze;
I will enjoy my life up to its lowest lees.
Life is short; it is precious;
Life can't stand with things malicious.
Why shouldn't I, why shouldn't I?
Soar with wings up in the sky?
Aye, I do love to dream;
Like the stars, I don't gleam,
But I will shine, shine, for sure;
The more will I shine, the more endure.
......
In the still of night,
. . . a voice
becomes Dawn's first light
Where every shadow meets its end
Reverie ascends skyward:
a final page turned
, weary lines
of hope, once written
now unwind
......
No more will I make life freeze;
I will enjoy my life up to its lowest lees.
Life is short; it is precious;
Life can't stand with things malicious.
Why shouldn't I, why shouldn't I?
Soar with wings up in the sky?
Aye, I do love to dream;
Like the stars, I don't gleam,
But I will shine, shine, for sure;
The more will I shine, the more endure.
......