Sometimes I feel like a monster
Acting less like a man than beast
When the ugliest, unsightly part of me
Is the most of myself not the least

When a prayer
Seems more like a tired rant
Than an earnest plea

The raging storm dies
The sun brightens the day
And calm returns to the sea

I heard the songs of sirens
Sweetly humming through the night
Their naked silhouettes appeared
Beneath the grey moonlight
They knew that I was watching
But, was allowed my stay
To gaze upon these wonders
Who so freely danced and played
Precious nymphs of Nature
In worship of the sky
I fear it but a surreal dream
Adrift a field of rye

How hard the storms
We seem to weather
They leave our souls
Like well-worn leather

****** resignation
Perceived as strength
And so little notice
Of suffering in length

Maybe sadness is happiness
So dearly bereaved
And we live with the loneliness
Of love’s empty shirt sleeves

Bound by the scars
That make up who we are
Perhaps we’re like the song bird
That will not fly too far
Though the cage door be open
We can never be set free
From the familiar surroundings
Of our own captivity

Full of liquor and beer
The man in the mirror
Spoke to the other
At the shed of a tear

“Selfish deeds
For empty needs
Perhaps are why
Hearts ache and bleed”

Ambling through lives
Thirsting for meaning that seems
To turn to dust
Searching for a selfless direction
That may lead to all that inspires us

Tempted by a dark flame
We fear will consume our souls
In a desperate need of the salvation
Calling to us
From one side to the other
We walk a bridge of fire

The more time I have
The more time to squander
Distracted by thoughts
That begin to wander
Leaving my wits
In scraps and tatters
As if what I think
Unmistakably matters
I need not task
My every moment awake
But the less idle my mind
The fewer chances to take