White Night
Pain meets skin, Pain meets air
The hands move slowly and there is tension there
Not to hide, not to hide
But let what's inside decide
Every color holds a thought
Each line is gently trained
What we feel, what we release
It turns into form, it turns into a world
There are no mistakes, no perfect plans
Just the truth of where I stand
I don't cry to be seen, I cry to let go
Consciousness leads to lingonberries, and the rest fits in
Silence will guide the moving hand
Consciousness begins where words do not stand
What I take will find its way
In every moment I choose to stay
Inhale in silence, exhale in fear
Everything I give becomes clear
Disease is more than color and shape
It's a promise, it's a prayer, when the goal meets the moment
Consciousness is everywhere
When the pain goes away
What's left is what I wanted to say