-->Losing It

    
    
            The dancer slows her frantic pace
            In pain and desperation,
            Her aching limbs and downcast face
            Aglow with perspiration.
    
            Stiff as wire, her lungs on fire,
            With just the briefest pause -
            Then flooding through her memory,
            The echoes of old applause.
    
            She limps across the floor
            And closes her bedroom door...
   
            The writer stares with glassy eyes -
            Defies the empty page,
            His beard is white, his face is lined
            And streaked with tears of rage.
   
            Thirty years ago, how the words would flow
      
            With passion and precision,
            But now his mind is dark and dulled
            By sickness and indecision.
   
            And he stares out the kitchen door
            Where the sun will rise no more...
   
            Some are born to move the world -
            To live their fantasies
            But most of us just dream about
            The things we'd like to be
   
            Sadder still to watch it die 
            Than never to have known it
            For you -- the blind who once could see -
            The bell tolls for thee...
    
    
    
                                                Rush
                                                SIGNALS