A story waiting behind closed eyelids,
And unasked questions held back on
frightened lips.
What happens to hopes that are born and die again?
To be new and clean,
seen whole again.
Let the shame go.
What would one do to gain that?
Stop running from a dream.
Don't ask about a whim.
Never look back upon
a face of love again.
Start over,
look at life in a differet color.
Rebirth has us wide-winged
and soaring forevermore.
