In the dusty corners of my mind, there lay ideas I can’t seem to find.
In the open doors to faith and cure, there I see the world unsure.
I see the path that paved promises, the river that forgot its own premises.
The force unseen, yet deeply felt, the timeless truth where hope has dwelt.
I’ve forgotten the children, the ones who cried.
I’ve forgotten them, the ones who pried.
In this little corner, where shame is still, where the world is calm,
With fear, injustice and even disgust, there stays a little rust and dust.
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