Bradley To produce nothing but withdrawn faith, On that once wild, now withered day Allows us time, So sweet, so true, so unbelieving What have we survived, conquered and ultimately overcome Who rose to us and came to us, open, honest and new So wondrous is the notion that he spared himself of suffering, Not that he suffered before he was spared But did he know, had he seen already, Was what lay ahead, to some, what had been Could he have read the lines of doubt, the minds of doubters The real feelings that awaited beyond glossy grins and wretched touch So wondrous is the notion that he spared himself of suffering, Not that he suffered before he was spared Forever I hear the silent cry, Echoing and Echoing and Echoing, Always the silent cry No other sound has felt so real, so soft to the touch, so velvet, Surrounding me with warmth and comfort In the silent cry I can feel #life, feel living, Living where the #life never was So wondrous is the notion that he spared himself of suffering, Not that he suffered before he was spared