Sometimes I feel,
as though we’re all just shouting in the dark.
We pretend to be strong
and so we scream,
but everyone’s screaming
and no one’s listening,
so despite our loud voices,
we end up
all alone.
Tell me
when could we come home?
When do we feel
that we have been heard?
Ah, perhaps when silence
fills the air
and we all grew tired of shouting.
Perhaps when we allow
our saddest tears to fall,
and someone catches them all.
Someone who hears
the song of our souls.
Find hope in your darkest hour.
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