Candlelight plays on the ceiling
A yellow tongue, licking at the shadows
No sound, no motion, no feeling
Quiet and curtains hide the windows
The wind sleeps restlessly
A respite for the trees after the storm
No music to fill the voice in me
And I look at my inner form
I look with honest eye
Not needing to love everything
But refusing to flinch or shy
I have no answers, I've got nothing