Your Name

In the cobwebs of my existence
like lace, at the edge of time;

at the end of all hope, like soap on a rope,
there's a reason for this rhyme.

Through the hallways of my lifetime
echoing all the future brings,

I've been given such a gift
to warrant flying, without wings.

I was stagnant in some water
that's best described as ink;

I've been allowed to surface quicker,
and easier than you'd think.

In the silence of my darkest night
that darkens each and every frame,

there's a light that shines forever,
every time I say your name.