We go out into the night, and make our way to the lonely hill
where the lovers and the dreamers come together to fly.
Waiting in the wings, we see a man's life begin
and there by our side, we see a mother's pride.
And at last the truth is ours.
We wander in the dark, and think of our eternal lives,
in which the poets and the prophets have passed before our eyes.
Crashing in the light, we see two cars collide
and there by our side, we see a man has died.
And at last the truth is his.
Alan Buckley
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-lovers-the-dreamers-the-poets-and-the-prophets/
