Sometimes I'm close
to the perfect answer
I feel it float
just beyond my reach

It moves outside
of my perception
I long to know
what it has to teach

Whispering, to me
in a secret language
words, that I, can't hear

Beckoning, to me
with a velvet finger
I long to believe
that deliverance is near

I want to know
why I feel like weeping
why my death calls
and draws me to bed

I want to feel
like the green grass reaching
for the sky
no reason why
just seeking to live