Where is the frustration
Where is the loss
What makes the dreams
Which sources to emboss
In hope is their certain despair
Being alone are we bound to share
With the past is the present
Pour the ladle in effortless pairs
Rides at the fairground
Drinks in the bar
Sad nights at football
Pushing for a step too far
Turning to faith
With an explorers mind
There for the joy of examination
And the diamonds to find
To swirl as in orbit
Or simply to sit and stare
To meditate on peace
And silently be there
With the hope of a song
As beauty walks by
To know of a truth
By having known the lie
Where is the reality
And where is the fake
Here with my own faith
To riddle, to rake
