Inside the void we call home
I'm struggling to breath fresh air
My senses are starting to weaken
without new hope we're all lost

When from a throng of black and white
I hear my name being called
there is a flutter of wings above
and a bluebird takes off for tomorrow

The thought of seeing someone else
who looks into the reflective mirror
and sees not a face staring back
Can you take me into your arms?

There is always a shuffle of feet
but no certain voice to listen to
Eyes follow no certain direction
and are blind to the sides

If for any other reason I laugh
and I have not lost the will to think
Pull me back into the crimson tide
the only place I really want to be

But the moment is fading dark
and when my eyes adjust to the dull
I find facing me on the ground
a single, isolated blue feather