If you donate $50, I write you a poem as a thank you.
Fear is the fuel,
Hope is the flame,
Burning the Dark away.
Fear is the fire,
Hope is the hole.
Letting the Light though.
Fear is the cell,
Hope is the hand,
Pulling you free.
As the water rises, the boat it has a hole,
And so the water rises, the boat it has a hole,
Still the water rises, and the boat still has that hole,
Still the dark it rises, I can feel it in my soul.
As the boat fills up, I work to bail it out.
And as the boat it fills up, I work to bail it out.
Still the boat it fills up, and I work to bail it out.
Still the Dark it fills up, and my soul it seeks to win.
I see the boats have gathered, they pull me out to them.
And I see the boats have gathered, they pull me out to them.
Still the boats have gathered, and they pull me out to them.
Still the Light it gathers, and my soul is free again.
The stone sinks into you,
it holds you there.
Blind to it,
You struggle to free yourself.
The stone grows larger.
You falter, you fall,
The stone grows.
You feel air,
The stone lifts.
Not knowing anything,
But the stone.
Hands pick you up,
Hold onto you,
Murmuring peace into you soul.
You walk again,
Free in spirit,
A pebble in your hands.