One more drift another shift and into one more desert dune but soon the secrets are revealed, the sand alive, it feels like I could dive into the sea and be swallowed by the pyramid tree.
Oasis,
calm and full of camel **** where camels sit and make their wills, ****-backed hills which I ascend, they tend to disagree about the pyramid, the tree and me, I dive again into and underneath the sea of shifts, am lifted far below the sky where scorpions sting and Angels cry, it feels like I could almost die but almost is not nearly there.
Mirage,
jet streams dreaming, gleaming in my hand, and all within a grain of sand,
glass eyes look on, they see the pyramid, they see the tree, they seldom look with beady eyes upon the figure that is me.

Teddy and his picnic tree had better luck than anything that I could see
but Teddy sets himself apart, straw head, straw legs and arms, straw heart,
the dune and Ted and the pyramid led me here, the tree was in the desert all along and the camels sit, still in **** and will do 'til the Sun goes down.

the time spent wishing my past was written in pencil
cause this permanent marker ain't cutting the ties that wrap around my throat like tentacles from the darkest parts of my mind choking out all the light with the suction of a black hole, or my mothers love that shined so bright through those beautiful lips, but fell short with action.

Sounds of a guitar
Sliding through the chords
Of my heart
The music is rock,
But it feels like
Free-flowing tenderness,
The gentleness of rain
As it drizzles through
The mellow pavement
Voices singing
Fiercely melodious
Of melodies untrained
Yet well contained
In a pool of unforgotten
Memories.....

You were the gentlest
Soul I have ever known
Straight as an arrow
In principles not wanting
Sometimes your stance
Was misunderstood
But you only bother
About what is good,

“A loving husband...
A doting father......”
Your epitaph may well
Be written with
These simple words....

I hear your whispers
Loud and clear
From the spiritual side
Of a non-physical world
I wish I could say more
But words could
Flow no more...
All I know is time stood by
When you breathed your
Last worldly sigh....

So here I am
Alone and awake
In the middle of the night
With  music in sight
An empty room and
Two electric fans
That could not quench
The stifling heat

Sounds of a guitar
In a well organized
Chaotic music that rocks
The loneliness within me

And then I realized....
I really, really miss your presence.....

Darkness is upon me again with its radiant stare bottling up my sorrows as I distantly glare.
      Summoning strength from ancient Gods with endless power beckoning sanity.
                                             Heart retching screams come fourth from my soul in search of you my love.
                           My love... I know I must release you from the pits of my heart, you yelled I was in your way. Im sorry you were my world, there is my confession.
                                     Fear resides inside my chest cavity and grows undetected, spreading like a wild fire on a dry day.
                                               Anxiety ridden through and through I now obey thy master. It is he who rules my sleepless nights and uncontrollable storms overflowing from my eyes.
     Depression threatens to hijack my thoughts so I can do his bidding and have blood on my hands.
       The loneliness is inevitable, as is my aching heart begging to die.

There has to be disharmony said the
man with the harpsichord and the barrel
***** played as the pet monkey swayed and the handle turned back to the start.
In the rush to begin the mad grin of the old man stood out by a mile and the smile on the face of the other in the race was wiped clean by the starter who fired the gun, tunes ran through the long queue of men who smoked pipes like they still were in style and the thrill of the chase was not lost in the pace as the tunes ran on in the night,
in the morning when flagging the tunes started lagging behind, but the monkey being blind saw nothing at all and heard only the barrel ***** grind.
The harpsichord man drew a sword and he ran just a little bit faster that day,
no monkey
no sway
no *****
no grind
no body to find,
disharmony wins the day.