a quiet lyric for denial

and thus the soul becomes a word
the heart becomes a poem
we walk from paris in barefeet
and enjoy a springing Rome

and thus the body is a work
the mind a trick of light
we keep silent in this place
where wrong is mostly right

and thus each thought is history
each breath, an heir long passed
we inherit almost nothing
and it's nothing that always lasts

and thus the soul becomes the word
the heart becomes the poem
we stand at last before truth
every dream must roam

and thus the body is the work
the mind a fabric torn
we scream without a tongue
in the place where love is born

and thus each thought is the story
each breath, a long held air
we bequeath countless verses
and hope posterity will care

and thus the soul becomes us
our heart becomes a prayer
we stand at last beside the lie
and love more than the wise would dare