Questions of State

Where can the heavy hand feel
In the dark places where lurks dreams
Leaving things unnerved, unseen
Leaving things unspoken, undreamed

In the dark places where lurks dreams

Kettle calls with whistling scream
In the dark places where lurks dreams
Let things that sleep, sleep some more
Let things that lie, lie at the door

Meaning drifts in currents of numbness
Young and old and days of seasons
Searching hands in those dark places
Even now I cannot tell
Let things be
For a time

Though dark times advance upon
Outward faces that grin foolishly
Netherland floats away on a balloon
In the dark places where lurks dreams
Gathering dust with aged head bobbing
Heavy with sighs and stones
To let things… answer