Poetry sweet, hold my hand in this night.
The strength I meant to muster fades away.
Can your soft whisper take me through to light?

These nightmares stir in me a depth of fright,
and specters cast their shadows 'til the day.
Poetry sweet, hold my hand in this night.

The scars I try to hide are in clear sight
to ghosts who marked the shadows where they lay.
Can your soft whisper take me through to light?

My blood has cried: I'll never be all right,
yet I know nothing other than to stay.
Poetry sweet, hold my hand in this night.

The razor has its own familiar bite.
Spirits sneak into veins--the price I pay.
Can your soft whisper take me through to light?

It is how red drips silent against white
that I survive thus, stumbl'ng on my way.
Poetry sweet, hold my hand in this night.
Can your soft whisper take me through to light?