the silence hangs in the air suspended,
it doesn't drift,
it just floats,
waiting for someone to make a move,
waiting for something to improve,
but instead,
all that's left,
are careless words,
and broken souls.

let’s drift apart as quickly as we got along
like the waves across the shore
it is but a fleeting moment
leaving nothing but a dampened sand
to remind that we have met once in a lifetime

The path went blurry
I loose my track
Distracted by you
When will I get back to life?

Keeping my eyes close
I don't want to see
The world you introduced
Created by you and me

Trouble, good o’ friend;
Have you come to visit me once again?
I passed the streets, walking through paved stones;
Looking through stalls as people dance.
Like dusking eve, blown where life shown;
In solitude, in dismay, I am not at home.
For who have you come for, if not my lone heart?
The clouds downpour, life is like a dart.
People drift along like dripping blood;
I find blood easy to dry, yet a longevity of stain.
Smear myself in cold blood, my attire continues changing.
If only, if that, if then, good o’ friend;
Must you only live by if?

Too little may I imagine I an=
swore to code I am
aware bound by
oath, or tack of declared variables, awaiting

suffering now
to be
so
as we find it,
seen as
it appears, random as hell.
Who could imagine that, accurate?

When we spend a free lifetime
of some new
creature formed
in worded being, some
thing and, now named, this as that
name as one, is this
that?

Ever yes, exuberant yes, wir sind, nach einmal…

once again, a gain, immeasurable, but for the
truth unreal numbers may contain,

entertain
the great notion, on my mind
since the Weavers were as likely red as ever
in the grand
signals of edges, approaching everchange
interchange
looping four leaved no-stop flow packeted
info crossed-roads, six-lanes over four
or a roundabout, as in olden time town centers
before town squares and malls to anchor off ramps

any random series of events, fit it in the mind
driving
80 feet per second, steady, not
like falling per second per second to splat
slow lane, fast lane is 125 feet per second, in Texas

ha, giant leap for man mind, accept the
obvious,
flat out
matter is not all there is, even here.

Remember when we’d fly kites
And your hands bled from the wire
We used to talk about dreams
As you bandaged your cuts
Ready to fly them again

We drifted with each other's names
Still sewn into our hearts
I think back to those days
Praying that every dream I could never reach
Has found you instead
And that they walk with you every step
The distances I could not go
For you

I am drifting
A very lonely course.
Winds ever shifting,
My voice continues hoarse.
With the words
I will never say
And the herds
I shepherd every day.
It's time to awaken
But here I lay
Because those winds -
All they do is shift away.

As the rain starts to pour,
I feel as if I drift away in it.
Drifting to escape my trap.
One I have created all these years
and now it seems I can't escape it.
So now I let my self drift away
hoping to escape my creation.