In child's night, no angel's wing,
Skin to skin, hate's piercing sting,
From forth the darkness, evil leapt,
Within boy's soul, a poet slept.
Saltless tears in flowless spring,
Will the song bird ever sing?
Within child's heart, pain's anguish crept,
While in his soul, a poet slept.
Evermore the night does bring,
Screams of pain, ever wailing,
Within his heart, a young boy wept,
While in man's soul, a poet slept.
[This message has been edited by Mike (edited 12-26-1999).]