Undone

angels grounded with iron hard wings

are a sign of what's to come



devils released from hell's deepest rings

prepare for the world undone



fairies and elves armed with arrows and slings

set ambushes in the sun



wizards and witches and magical beings

guide a hundred thousand kingdoms



and the fate they resist ever seeing

will be over before it's begun



the outcome, a mystery bleeding

will wipe out every last one



and the world will come


undone



Revisiting the past: Paranoid

deeper and deeper the cut

Does the writer know his words will be great?
We all strive for that goal
many times falling flat
other times sailing high on the wings of admiration
Is that enough?
Are there more reasons why
we toil
and stress
and tidy up dirty little lines
into beautifully sculpted stanzas?
Who benefits the most from these hard labors-
the lonely writer or the lone reader?

or does anyone at all...?



Revisiting the past: Men

dislocated

disoriented and confounded
discomfort sinking in
desperation long since past
desires never win
denizens of neverwas
deserve a second chance
destined to be never forgotton like me


Revisiting the past: Unintended

catching up

time has decided to elude me
and exclude me
from it's ever present
presence



Revisiting the past: Discovery

hurt

If I only had a voice
to say what you need to hear
If I only had the words
that would help draw you near

if only

If I only had the strength
to climb uphill for you
If I only had the means
to make the lies come true

if only

There was never a time
in my short history
that I ever did anything
just for me

There was never much need
for the feelings so alive
that haunt my every moment
and rain from my own sky


If only I had a voice
to ask for sympathy
If only I had the words
that could bring peace to me

If only I had the strength
to bring about the end
If only I had the means
If only I could pretend

that it didn't

hurt


Revisiting the past: My first post

Harboring

lurking within me

hidden and hiding
wooden and writhing

fugitives from my
emotional bank

robbed and pawned
for next to nothing

the leftovers wilt
inside my frame

stagnant and mouldering
decaying at the edges

absorbing little pieces of me
dissolving little bits of my soul

until I set them free




Revisiting the past: Totem

The answer lies within

the written word can deceive you
like the music that you hear
the difference lies within
the space between your ears

so take a second
take some time
to think it through
in due time

you will hear
the message
loud and clear

the spoken word can mislead you
like an ambitious broken heart
the difference can be subtle
you have to listen from the start

so take a second
take a little time
think the whole thing through
in due time

you will know
the right direction
from here to there

the answer lies within




Revisiting the past: Muse