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Silver Stones Across the Water


Silver stones skip across the water.
Golden bells chime in your mind.
Moonbeams and starlight
are now so hard to find.
And there is no use
chasing after rainbows,
because there is no pot of gold
for you to find, or ever to hold,
and no matter how much you want
things to be better than they are,
there is only the misty morning,
a burnt out falling star,
and raindrops, and tears for you.

And you will never be
more than a wind across the water,
more than a ripple
on the river,
more than a new born child,
more than a dream that has
never been dreamed.
You are like a flower growing wild
that withers in the sunlight,
that shrivels in the wind.

You are a shadow shivering
in the mellow moonlight,
a stranger in a land
filled with dark
and lonely places
and you know
that peace, and love
will never set you free.

So there is no use in trying
to untie the ropes
that hold you,
or bind up your wounds
that are bleeding,
because someone else
will find you,
and take your hopes,
and freedom from you,
once again.

You watch for silver stones
to skip across the water,
but they never will again.
And the golden bells
that once chimed
the words of peace
in your mind,
have grown silent
and the tears
that you cry
aren’t for the dying children
but for the love,
and hope, and dreams
that you could never find.

Silver stones skip across the water.
Golden bells chime in your mind.
Moonbeams and starlight
are now so hard to find.

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  • Keeper of the Sword

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