The silence between the notes

(Modeled loosely after one of my favorite classics. Does anyone know the original?) Mark but this tear, and mark in this, How great the fear of future is When faced with what cannot be said: A choice to stay or move ahead; My cool, pale tear drips to my bed. O still, two lives in one life spare, Which might almost in efforts fare To fight, or fly, for what we lack: Escape these living walls of black; Your warm, wan tear runs down my back. In these cruel tears, now mingle our Joys, hopes and fears: their final hour. For future strong, for present weak, 'Tis true; we hear how false fears speak Though our dark tears stream down my cheek.

In my life, there are two constants: the Holy Bible and the MythBusters. And that's the world as I see it.

As the forest fades into the trees, Open yourself toward the sky. Invite the clearing.

When I was there, that's who I was but I moved on and climbed above. Or so I thought 'til your return-- Took hold, refused to let me run. It's not your place to choose, decide, To call me by your Name, not Mine-- To make me feel two inches tall is all You did when I was small-- Now with you here, grows only fear Of How can I continue where I'm strong and free and on my own When you refuse to let me go?

If they knew how this heart bled with theirs, Would they see our pain's the same? If they saw the sweat and heard the tears, Would they see I'm torn down too? Or would these...weaknesses...confirm I am as flawed as they've assumed?