Do the dreams we dream exist,
Here within our dying world?
Are there hopes that take on flesh,
And long at last we see unfurled?
Is there light which makes it down,
Here below the canyon walls?
In the darkest valley, here,
Here beneath the thundering falls?
’cause we know that nightmares ride
hoof-beats echoing their call
Fears made flesh we know exist
We can hear them at the wall.
Silence takes us to a place
A place we fear we must go
Only there inside ourselves,
We begin to even know.
It’s not that truth lies inside
But there, is where we can see–
But there, is where demons hide
And hopes long to see us free.