.

*His words,
once a celebration of love,
poetic affection,
written from the deepest
part of his heart
for her,

are now
nothing more than
creased and torn
pages of empty verses
shoved in the back pocket
of his worn out jeans

Ink bleeding between
the lines of a man
who believed he mattered,
only to find that he is
as insignificant
as his writings,

a forgotten poet,
a dried up pen in hand,
scratching sad poetry
on a lonely sidewalk
between the cracks of his life,
etchings of who he once was

Thawed from her icy stare
Her subjects gather
To bid repair

We were once golden
Amongst the evergreens
This energy of consciousness
Is an infectious fiend

Beckoning the call
Break free from the one
And beyond forgiveness
For all we have done

She sweeps across the open sea
To seal the final bet
But you better believe
There's still gold
   Amongst the evergreens yet...

.

*I’m a believer
that time is a healer,
words speak the truth
and the sun always shines

Lost will be found
if the seeker is willing
to hold out his hand
as he follows the signs

Wrong can be right
when it carries affection
though pulling apart
everything you have known

Just like a seed
that is planted in springtime,
a flower will bloom
of the joy you have sown

Oceans are small
with the perfect connection
and distance is short
if the promise is peace

Love is the song
that the world should be singing,
arms open wide
so that hatred might cease

Whatever comes
there is always a reason,
lift up your eyes
and I’m sure you will see

There is no difference
we’re in this together,
love one another
and all will be free