I may know the word. But not say it. I may know the truth. But not face it. I may hear a sound. A whisper sacred and profound. But turn my head. Indifferent. I may know the word. But not say it. I may love the fruit. But not taste it. I may know the way. To comfort and to sooth. A worried face. But fold my hands. Indifferent. If I'm on my knees. I'm begging now. If I'm on my knees. Groping in the dark. I'd be prying for deliverance. From the night into the day. But it's all grey here. It's all grey to me. I may know the word. But not say it. This may be the time. But I might waste it. This may be the hour. Something move me. Someone prove me wrong. Before night comes. With indifference. If I'm on my knees. I'm begging now. If I'm on my knees. Groping in the dark. I'd be prying for deliverance. From the night into the day. But it's all grey here. But it's all grey to me. I recognize the walls inside. I recognize them all. I've paced between them. Chasing demons down. Until they fall. In fitful sleep. Enough to keep their strength. Enough to crawl. Into my head. With tangled threads. They riddle me to solve. Again and again and agan.