By: Roland John Olson

To be numb
To be absent of feeling
No tingles of the flesh
No fingers of passion across the skin
No sound of heart or rush of breath

To be a blade of autumn grass
Responding not to the sun

To be sound... before a bell rings
The ground before rain
Ah, to be numb

Wintered in my soul

If there is to be life without you
Then I must be thus
I fear in death, my spirit would still yearn for you
And I would taste blood in my mouth... for eternity