In long serenades through night- 
through twilight eves that surround us, 
only the few, the small, and unheard, 
     will cry and dream alone. 

'Tis here - here behind thick rock walls 
we stand to face the sky.  Behind here, 
where above the crest of walls, we feel 
the sunlight, and in ways others 
     could never. 

I watch for the airs of new thought to 
     reach me, 
to touch the inner most heart of me. 

But where is the heart, when all of life 
within me has fallen - where are angels 
whose footsteps cease to correspond 
     with my own? 

And what colors are there, after sin - 
after the act of that which I so rebelled 
     against? 

I fell far from the airs of grace, 
     and was 
released into my own dark corridors, 
to roam, to relocate, to find my face 
     in the dark once again. 

And to at last, tie the lose ribbon, 
     left unattended so long ago. 

So many cries, are silent... 
but I hear them, I hear them. 
Live, in all the pain. 

This is how God draws your face, 
into the world of others, and into 
     his own, that later, 
       shall you come to understand.