Hiders in the Realm
Into the bluest eyes I looked, and saw the pain within
Deep inside his soul I searched and watched his blue eyes dim.
His heart, as tender as mine own..the grief, so clear to see
I watched him burrow far from life, and watched him run from me.
I tried to catch him running fast..
but he slipped right thru like sand.
Elusive, wild, and furious..
he was just that kind of man.
A blonde haired, blue eyed, soul of charm..
I reached out to muss his hair,
and then as he stood before me..
I saw, he was never there.
He had somehow taken his hurt and wounds,
crawling off on his own to die.
and hard as I tried, whatever I did,
I could not let this young man lie.
For I knew his soul of the living dead,
the one that hell has blessed.
I had looked inside of my own enough
to recognize the rest.
We, the Hiders in the Realm
of fiery burning pain,
who suffer, alone, the agonies
of a heart we cannot train.
It rules by day, and reigns by night, and never lets him dream.
It holds him captive in the light, to awaken with a scream.
Running always, hopping trains, his emotions in a flight,
From life itself, from love, from God.. this hurt, it was his plight.
To watch this man, I do love so, endure his shattered shame,
I felt my own frustration come from somewhere I can't name.
We bonded, somehow, he and I, within the walls of pain
And our love, it flows like blood...in the puddles of the rain.
But he can't see, and he won't let me close enough to touch.
When I try to hold him close to me, he cannot give that much.
This beautiful, sweet, and passionate man; Peter is his name...
Has a soul as old and tired as mine, drowning in the flame.
Dedicated to Peter Elwood Tork on 4/17/98
