I hear the writhing in the night,
Blowing, blowing
To the growling of plea;
Casting a spell as eerie
In the light.
Let alone myself
To looking
One world woven with woe,
Blindness, blindness
And seeing.
I feel the wounding in the air,
Breathing, breathing
To the howling of pain;
Cradling dreams that once did reign
In the lair.
Let alone myself
To list'ning
One world woven with woe,
Deafness, deafness
And hearing.
I see the warring in the day,
Blurring, blurring
To the sounding of prayer;
Caressing as a whisper
In the hay.
Let alone myself
To sensing
One world woven with woe,
Numbness, numbness,
And feeling.