The days of writhing in bed
Now gone
Giving time for asking
To know, to find
The times of quiet
Now thin
To the extent of talks
Of what to do, of what we are
Forcing us to do better
The nights of silent cries
Now crippled
As we share the dark
And the light in the stars
The moon takes us to the cave of its stories
And we share ours that were with misery
The secrets of torture
Now taken
By the histories we rewrite
By the vows we take
To keep that which doesn’t hurt
To bring back the bitter in our hearts
So that we resurface the good old memories
So that we find help by a simple ‘Ask’
