My eyes look into a room without sight,
Very dark,
Quiet in this room,
Only the slight music of a master,
To break the sleepless gloom,
So very late at night.

I lay and think of things that never were,
Of life seeking direction,
That which could not be found,
Coming to the end now,
And doubting even that of which I was so sure.

I see in the darkened room distant places,
Where my world began,
Protecting me and was so safe,
And the happiness of all those young faces.

Now my inheritance of memory's long plight,
That which is always seen,
Consuming my soul,
So very late at night.

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