The Outside

The stars shine,
Yet the sky is dark,
The sun comes up,
And the circle of life comes again.

The heart beats,
The way it always does,
As free is it should be,
As free as the wind.

We take it for granted,
We can't see what others can,
But yet, we aren't blind,
Our eyes can see the colors, the objects.

Yet, there is the world,
That says, with its desperate,
Beautiful voice that I hear,
That says, "Please, help us."

We are deaf, yet we hear
The beautiful musical sounds,
We can't understand,
Because we are greedy, selfish.

The circle of life is dying,
We are to rule the world
Yet we can't, we suddenly
Hear the voices.

I want to help,
But in front of millions of people,
I'm shy, for I don't know what to do
Because no one cares.

I hear the sounds,
That cry for help,
That need the help
To gallop and be free.

I like freedom,
And they do too - so they have to go.
I hear the sounds,
Yet I wait and only listen.

I hear them,
I listen to them, and walk to them,
Slowly, but carefully,
As if to still be free.

And soon I get there,
To the beautiful grace
That gallops to run,
That neighs to talk.

They can't talk,
For they try but nothing comes out.
Yet it's obvious:
They are crying for help with invisible tears.

I come to them,
Kiss them with my invisible lips,
And I know what to do,
Because without them, life is nothing.

I cry to them,
With my own language,
Promising that everything will be okay,
Yet, that seems to be a fantasy.

I know that the circle of life is,
Yet I don't care,
For when the sun comes down,
There will be stars that shine.