There once was a scorpion

who lived under a rock

who dreamed every night

that he was a hawk

in dreams he would soar

through the night's skies

searching the seas

for his most wanted prize

there was always a scorpion

who was truly a hawk

but at the end of each night

he would crawl under his rock

He would continue to do this

until he got his true wish

that someday he would catch

a lightning like fish

There will be a bird

who once was a hawk

who lived as a scorpion

under a rock

a bird so colorful

because he got his true wish

that one day he'd catch

a lightning like fish

In the window of dreams

I showed you a sword

to wield as a peasant

and not as a lord

a sword that is not weapon

a sword which is a tool

to empower the wise

but burn the hand of a fool

In a time not so distant

when you open your eyes

wield this sword as a gift

but not as a prize

for this sword

that is trusted with you

should guide you to light

and save what is true

Typing...

Step out of the room and into the rain.
The sky is no longer gray,
But the cool drizzle washes me clean.
My skin is peeled away, like a snake;
Someone new,
Yet
Someone who is me, the one who's always been.
I had abandoned her.

Addiction
To what was never real.
Addiction.

I can see I lied to her, myself,
I can admit to my own illusions I was deluded to believe:

    I
       Do not need you.
                 I
                    Cannot save you.

The truth does not make me heartless.
Wash me clean and away the darkness.
I am compassion.
I am nurture.
I can be your friend,
Care from a distance while I mend,

Because I do not need you.
               We are not meant to be.

Now you'll have to save yourself.
Now I must love me.