An Audience Of One

Barely awake or still sleeping
light shines through an open door
in its shadows it is hidden, it’s so familiar to me
While all the owls are whispering cut off that hair
and all the crows are yelling you’ll leave to nowhere
Kill all those sparrows to end their songs of hope which I never got to know at
all
kill all those sparrows to end their songs of sorrow which I got to know so well
Barely asleep or still dreaming
disaster is knocking on the door
in it’s voice it is all hidden
It’s still so familiar to me