He sits in his room, the day filled him with gloom,
Not seeing the light come his way.
His life that was hiding, sitting inside him,
Far away from eyes trying to take it away.

One day like a child, who just opened his eyes,
The light cut through the gloom and the haze.
He walked through the door and out to the day,
Watching and feeling his way.

He knows his desire that so needed inspired,
Was waking and growing every way.
His inspiration he'd found, coxed him out to play 'round,
Running, his life starting to play.

Jumping over the fence, running fast through the fields,
Like a child, they chased butterflies all day.
The more he played, the more his heart grew from gray,
And the life he had hidden away.

Stretched its wings like a hawk, its fins like a trout,
and the freedom and happiness stayed.
But dipping back to old days and the feeling that stayed,
Keeping him in the dark all the way.

But he knew it was so, if this life he now knew
Were true, its hand would have played long ago.
So he feared it was not, it wouldn't last, this last shot,
And he'd slam back to the life he'd once known.

Was it all in a dream, was it as real as it seemed,
He may never truly know, yet the desire will always seem so.
It feels so real and right, but he knows like the longest night,
Too soon it leaves and the fires die slowly away.

When the last of them died, he moved back to his room,
To the dark hollow so filled with his gloom.
His fears take over again, chasing away the light,
The dark slips in and the child dims inside.

Maybe the inspiration will return, the child will open that door,
The light cut through the gloom once again.
Right past the haze and out to the day,
Still watching and feeling his way.

One day, maybe the light will come again,
Then, he will start to grow, as the darkness dims.
Again, he may jump the fence, run through the fields,
And like a child, chase butterflies all day.