Locked away, in tower grey,
The crime of innocence;
And in the streets, disarray,
Observed from the distance
Of a somber penance:
A sinister interplay.

My world
Your world
Toes curled
Heads swirled
Ever evolving
Changing, revolving
Sensitisation to your surroundings
Habituation to all that is around
Life’s experiences we all endure
And elation and what’s more
Life is life
The worlds your oyster
Our home, our cloister
This is our world!

Small steps,
Cover more ground.

Quiet voices,
Make more sound.

Peaceful weapons,
Draw more blood.

Ten million drops,
Unleash a flood.

Carry me, far far away
to the places in my dreams.
Reality’s just somewhere to visit
where nothing is, as it seems

The little bird no longer flies
she sits and mourns her broken wings
her tattered feathers, faded now
will never feel the breath of spring.

She sings now for the life she lost
a silent sweet lament
such sad refrain, if heard aloud
would break the hearts of men

The little bird falls quiet now,
Her end is drawing near
and not a single soul will know
that she was ever here.

All alone and feeling free
nothing here to bother me,
blue as far as I can see
being all that I can be.

Walking barefoot on the ground,
not another soul around
a sense of peace is to be found
when the joys of Spring abound!

In this quiet place I sit,
all alone, yet never quite,
to watch the twilight bleed the day
and bring the bounty of the night.

He comes to me as evening wakes,
His silent solace ever true
bewitched I fall into his eyes
and there I feel my soul renew.