For As Long As The Grain Of Sand Is In The Mouth
Of The Mother Pearl So There Will Be Pearls
It Is The Pain That Makes It
It Is The Wound That Makes The Scar
It Is The Blur That Makes The Eyes
Work Hard To See
It Is The Haze And The Mist
That Make Us Stand And Wait And Carefully See
To Find What Is There
When The Light Of The Sun Finally Comes
It Is What Is Inside Me
That I Cannot Just Tell You
That Makes Me Write
And For As Long As I Am Muted By Your Presence
I Will Always Have Something To Write
For As Long As My Tongue Is Tied
And Nothing Slips From There
I Will Always Write
Because There Is No Other Outlet
No Vent
For As Long As I Fear Your Wrath
I Must Continue To Write
From The Bondage Of My Teeth And Tongue
My Hands And Mind
Shall Find Its Way To Freedom