Despair is the velvet storm
That creeps up in the night
And drowns out all the song
And douses ev'ry light.

His howling tempest burns
His unchained fury stalks
And hidden - far concealed
Without the words - he talks.

So silently he whispers
So cruelly - forever plots
To encompass his bright young foe
In ev'ry burning thought.

He crawls amongst the shadows
A haven for his maimed visage
And hideously in despair he cries
As the lark dares stand his endless barage.

Piteous is he
Whose eyes not see the flame
For he who cant behold
Shall feel none but pain.

But oft do we see him
And oft we do mistake
His illbegotten mask of comfort
For some hope - true, though fake.

I've seen him in the eyes of she
Who let love fade away.
I've seen him in the eyes of he
Who should have thought to stay.

I've heard him tumble from the young child's lips
When the sun had broke a date.
I've felt him fill the air
At a firstborn's farewell of late.

And as he plays his deadly game
Of love and hate intwined
He searches - oh - so desperately
For his lark personified.

Yet his folly remians to bear
While he battles harmless shades
But hope - will not be found
in sand or wood or stone -
For the light shall ne'er fade.

For little does he know that we
In each - do carry and hide
So well concealed so tenderly
The flame of hope doth abide.

So lone he sits and lone he stands
And eyes with jealousy
The one true thing he cannot touch
To him brings misery.

In case you didn't notice - the lark, flame, etc. were all references to hope. Like it? Hate it? Let me know what you think! Great is the power of that tiny lil box right there. \/