Persistence

I wander in dreams, on gossamer wings,
dreams of mission bells, of endless springs,
unquestioned answers in a mindless rage,
of many words on a empty page.

I run to shout, to trip and fall,
I stand again, I touch your wall,
for deep within your crumbling tower,
the doors await their opening hour.

Time, and time again I cry:
"Let me love you, or soon I'll die"
but you never take the time to hear,
for far above, the sky is clear;
you are not touched by the tears that fall,
nor do you hear my anguished call.

©2007 Michael Shelby