the time has come
but what for
when time is done
you will want more

theres never time
for nothing much
you'll never find
the time for such

as time is short
and in the end
it can't be bought
yet time does mend

its time to go
once its begun
only time does know
the setting sun

after all, time will tell
*but keeps its secrets oh so well

The silence it deafens me
with violence they threaten me
to carry me off to an asylum
unless I can provide them
with an ulterior motive
till I hand in my notice
relinquish the chains upon my bed
the fiendish brain inside my head
deviously plotting my own demise
take leave from this place to warmer tides
bathe my body beneath calmer skies
naked like the day I drew breath
naked as I stare upon death
one hand holding a crooked scythe
the other beckoning to me, my life
did you forget to count the die?
or forgo the countless lies
that made the Countess cry
neither man nor mystery could change her path
so it's left to me to rearrange the past
jigsaw pieces scattered upon my pillow
connecting dots to draw the willow
who could forget the weeping widow
that cried herself to sleep.

How fragile the butterfly
as it dances in the sky
trying to find its way home
to a place not carved of stone
soon all this will be dust
so it asks what's all the fuss?
what is all the fighting for?
silly soldiers and their wars
silly man and his laws
the only law is mother nature
for no man can escape her
she who birthed us all
she who waits when we fall
for how the mighty will crumble
as the fools they do stumble
upon the stolen hands of time
each of them suffering for their crimes
and yet the butterfly it worries not
for all that it is, is all that it's got
beauty set upon wings
it's beauty that truly sings.

Fear is a Gift
It taught me to run
It taught me there are things worse than stress

Fear is a gift
Because when I'm running away from my worries
Because when I'm afraid of what might come

Fear reminds me
I'm still alive
I'm still breathing

Fear is a gift
Because somewhere deep down
Fear reminds me
I'm still human

For my best friend, Naomi

like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you came to me
gently,
with the soothing voice
of a sweaty spring
thank you, old friend
for being able to be
dark enough to see
the hidden light
in me

i will not go into the times we shared
asphyxia and summer air
juxtaposed to form
an inseparable pair

who am I, old friend
when the ship´s horn blares
if you made me who I am
(if you made me scarce)

like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you left me
softly, without
any warning of
the lack of color
(there would be)
without your splendor