The Tomb

What ceaseless fury,
What abomination,
Would dwell within
This accursed place?

What blinding light,
What clenching shadows
Would dare to speak
Within these halls?

Rest forever
My simple mind,
My wretched heart,
Be still and quiet.

Such tempting beauty,
Such starving prey;
We shall not dare,
We shall not stray.

This roofless bliss,
This sunken maw,
Shall burn us raw,
Shall eat us whole.

Until divided,
In whole we fall;
To holy sirens,
As shadows call.

What Seeker,

I’m curious, why are you here?
Step forward now, no need for fear.
Yes, in the light, stand tall and hear
My questions for your aimless tears.

But first, my thanks, for letting go.
And next my praise, for knowing how.
Still yet I give, a fair warning;
This wisdom won’t ease your mourning.

Let’s begin, prepare, float down your dreams.
I’m sure we’ll see some helpful things.
Ah, yes! Look there! A bitter fire,
Fueled by angry, selfish desire.

So please, explain, oh maestro lord,
Which notes were wrong in heaven’s chord.
Please, teach to us, your harmony,
So all the world can get in key.

Now think, perhaps, it’s not the rest,
But you who fails to pass the test.
“A world, so cruel, how could it be?”
“How could this all happen to me?”

You fool, wake up, it’s not to you,
It simply is, and that’s the truth.
Your bondage is, your selfish heart,
Not grief, not pain, nor sorrow’s art.

Man should not be a hopeless slave,
Nor take or seek the master’s oath,
So why do you choose to behave,
As if you were both?

Ontoge

In summers we would play,
Chased by shadows.
Still breathing free from fear;
Half truths we felt.

Our bodies still rebelled,
Against the pull.
Still standing free from time,
We grew to know.

In winters we would flee,
Back home to sleep,
Still hoping we could feel,
The warmth of love.

Our world could shut us in,
Comfort we felt,
Still knowing that our dreams,
Could lie and bleed.

I Implore,

We who would write,
Beautiful recollections,
And strange perceptions,
We need not suffer.
All too soon,
Does this specter beckon,
With lovely lies,
Which fill our hearts.
We need not mourn,
Not for the future, though,
Perhaps for the past,
If only at peace, at last.
For, sadness speaks,
No man would doubt this,
But smiles sing,
And calmness cures.
Our futures,
This life in our words,
It is not sorrow.
It is not simple,
It is not single.
It is life;
True life.

The Right Choice

I wanted to tell you,
About how today was,
The first happy day,
I’ve had in a while.

I wanted to tell you,
So that you could know,
I’m not as hopeless as,
I was as a child.

I wanted to tell you,
But not to brag,
That I watched the snow fall,
And I sat and I smiled.

I wanted to tell you,
But I knew that I shouldn’t,
Because you’re too far away,
And happy without me.

So I didn’t tell you,
And it all felt less real,
As I watched the snow fall,
And wished you were here.

Arrested

Stay near to me, my dear friend,
Where my words might reach you,
Where my eyes may see you.

For freshly thawed is this,
My precious loneliness,
A mess of puddles now.

Drenched, sighing, muffled sounds,
Set loose the air of relief.

Yet still, I stay my feet,
Behind bars of grey conceit,
Still whispering to me,
The distance I might fall,
If I let anyone in,
Anyone at all,
Or dare to escape,
And blindly move on.

Stay near to me, my precious dawn,
Stay near.

Drawn

As long as the hills stretch,
So long shall our reach grow.
As smooth as the hills roll,
So smooth shall our strides go.
As far as the horizon rests,
As ceaseless the sun sets,
Such distance our dreams met,
Persistence, our hearts suggest.
As light as the clouds lie,
So light shall our souls be.
As free as the rain falls,
So too, we set control free.
For never shall we arrive,
And pray never to retire,
As the purpose of our lives,
Is the motion of desire.

Field of Home

How far you’ve wandered,
Tempted as Helen was,
Or, stolen away,
Yet, returned to us.
How fare you glow now,
In this simple, summer day,
Bled of excess, outstretched;
Clothed in skin and sunlight.
Stay as long as you like,
There is no time here.
As sure as rain shall fall,
Or rivers flow,
Forever stands our home,
Enchanted by distance,
Forgotten with fondness,
Attuned by silent musicians.