You're one of those people
With mind's eye like an eagle's
You say all the right things
But never ever feel them
Life is much the poorer for it
The art of dissembling
Is your mark of distinction
And I who sees everything
And feels everything
With a bleeding heart
Sorely miss the days of old
When a yes was a yes
And a no was a NO
Even without a shake of the head
How I wish diplomacy and all artifice
Had never become   human tools
The way things are between us
We are heading for a big crash

It rose beneath our feet,
A rock, a testament to days we lost,
It trembled with our hearts,
And shook us free from selfish dreams,
To fix our eyes above,
Below,
Around,
Outside ourselves,
To care about the colour of the sky,
Or the way grass smells in the morning,
Or the intricate patterns in an insect's wing,
And our horizon grew,
And fell out from our grasp,
And ran towards the sun,
Which began to rise in the mornings,
Set in the evenings,
And every so often,
Mingle with the structures of our own hands,
And we began to sing,
And dance,
And whisper sweet nothings,
And hush our hatred,
For want of innate love - that we'd forgotten how to find.

The moon drips soft sunlight
Into wishful eyes;
Pupils explode and stars go blind
As life grinds against coarse sands of time.

-SLuR