Echoes and currents of thoughts and ideas, of dreams that died and words left unsaid.
The regrets that haunt my sleep and rattle around inside my head.
Ephemeral currents of sadness too deep, of happiness unknown, and this anger I keep.
It’s like a ghost on my shoulder, the demon that speaks, it provides unspeakable inspiration, yet the cost is too steep.
The exile is lonely, the wanderer is cold, I stumble through this night, and all I want…
All I want is a home.