To bask once more in the golden day,
Dreaming of the beauty that lies beyond the veil,
Lifted from the pallor of the night tides sway,
Called into the land ablaze with a new tale.
Sailing into the vaulted sky's never gray sights,
Where the glory of the blue horizon stretches on,
Far from the finite world and its infinite plights,
Where goddess and shell in great splendor do hail.

Within the lands below great Helios' burning gaze,
Where the breeze blows a new dawn’s sweet song,
Where the dreamer seeks the rose of the maze,
And the tangled web woven by fate grows long, 
Great storms build upon the unceasing horizons edge,
Raining upon the land yet another turn of the wheel.

The path of the dreamer becomes a murky wedge
Between the veiled beauty and all that is surreal,
As daylight descends into great depths of black,
Sweeping the world away into the night tides sway,
Carried away once more from the days golden back,
Beyond the veil, to slumber in this morphean hideaway.

In rows they stand,
Locked in patterns, one after the other.
In the field they are one mass of land,
Stalwart in their stance, as similar to their neighbor as to their mother.
Within the fiery skies above their planted heads,
In lanes unmarred by planned similarity, flies a beast cast of a different die.
Black as night, with wings of smoke; within those fiery skies they fly.
There you will find me.

In lines one by one,
Single file on either side of tamed nature,
Grazing along black river avenues, stand carefully planned hovels beneath the sun.
They are faceless, markedly lacking the unique touch of artistry to mature.
While crowded entities parade upon the market,
Great amphibious royalty croon ancient songs to the land around,
Gifting the night with the grand chaos of their sound.
There you will find me.

Not content to face bitter winds upon modern lanes,
A dweller of the urban landscape seeks out that which most abstain.
Deep in the dark hollows, where the gods of yesterday lie within still,
A fool seeks sanity amongst the ancestral beings who, within these spaces fill.
In the shadows of the great old ones,
Reveling in the divine lost amidst human progress,
There you will find me.

In dreams does the rose bloom.
Wild and free, her beauty graces the land,
Bathing the dreaming in floral perfume,
Once more beyond the gates that stand
Between sweet chaos in life,
And the grand splendor of reality's end.

Daylights glow finds the rose amidst strife,
A vision in crimson glory as dark winds bend
And bind in the frigid world of the waking.
Vile beasts bring despair to her bed of soil,
Raining sorrow upon the soul that's breaking
To the will of those who in darkness toil.
Sweet sleep shall ease the burdened mind,
As the fantastic beyond beckons yet again,
Through sand hewn gates,
Into the deep waters of passions plain.

From whence it departed sweet sleep returns,
Banishing the weary mind to drifting bliss,
Granting sweeping visions as the wheel of night slowly turns.
Stranger realms wait beyond the wall,
‘Neath the veil of darkness that drapes o’er the land,
Separating the dreaming from the waking world’s all.
Oh great rest do not forsake the fool,
Nor the hand pushed by forces seen not by mortal eyes,
For glimpses at peace during chaos are a needed tool.
Once more through the gates guarding the sunlit land,
Into the upside down that becomes the realm of the slumbering ones,
Where gods and monsters meet the fool in his nightly stand.
Stranger realms do indeed wait just beyond the wall,
When conscious thoughts of the world around finally fade,
Giving way to the beauty of sweet sleep’s beck and call.

Upon a frigid autumn morn,
As Apollo’s charge shines hazily through a heavenly shroud,
Ancient spires through fog are born.
Whilst a bitter breath beats down from hills above,
Shorn foliage coats the land,
And shadows of days to come wait just below.
Lines flow from a fool’s hand,
While the visage of a goddess in a shadowy shell
Lies just beyond the veil.
Haunted days of hallowed origin loom upon the horizon,
Soon spectral visitors may come hail;
The fall of night shall cull them from darkest depths.
Within a great northern port,
A cosmic wizard weaves a grand web of enchantment,
Entrancing all from his dark court.
Now the frigid morning winds further towards icy darkness,
As mad ramblings do depart
For distant eyes and minds to forever feast upon.

Days have become dragging years;
The sun hath nearly drowned in a torrent of tears,
While the ghosts of yesterday's past remain,
Enslaving beauty within doubt ridden chains.
But upon the distant horizon strange fields do loom,
Giving way to golden days ahead if given room.
Time and Tide are said to wait for none,
Lest the Gods unite as one,
Casting mysterious waves upon the changing tide,
Leaving hearts upon the shifting shore be the ones to decide.

A warm breeze ushers in the fall of night,
As small torches hold court in the fading daylight.
Their flickering glow sends shadows dancing across the ground,
Whilst amphibious royalty croon to the land their ancestral sound.
Distant shores beckon the weary mind.
Exotic lands promise escape from the woes of mankind,
Back into the ocean depths once more,
Beyond the wall of sleep envisioned in lore.
'Tis the pull of the evening tide;
Where such wonders await travelers upon the other side.