I wonder if a heart at peace

Has anything to say --

Or does the pen draw deeper

From a well of ghosts in gray?

I know of one whose strokes

Mark the haunting of his soul --

His eyes reflect the truth behind

His band's tough rock and roll...

Though I can't see the faces

Of his ghosts, I know their names --

Injustice, Mistrust, Loss

Creeping through a fog of Pain...

A silhouette in black

On a dimly lighted stage,

Giving voice to more than words

He once scribbled on a page.

But I'll never share these thoughts,

In my heart he'll steal no peek,

For many falsely claim they, too,

Can hear his spectres speak --

But they just wish on stars

As for answers sought in prayer.

Never caring for the star itself --

Nor knowing its despair...