This is what I've wanted.
To slip under sheets and get a restful sleep,
Instead of laying awake, uncertain, unsatisfied.

I've wished to be lost in the comforts of pillows and blankets,
Not left uncovered, uncomfortable.

I've found a new bed
I've found the dream outside my head.
I finally feel alive, not dead.

           Love                                  is                      
wr­itten                    in                    stone
       which                                slowly
             fades                          to
                   sand                   ..                                          
                    ­     ..                 ..
                             . . . . . . .
                              . . . . . .
                                . . . .
                                  . .
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. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

she loves to dance in bedlam
to the beat the shadows throw
in a gown of sequin macabre
since her mind left home

where webs of  deceit hang from chandlers
and madness is the party game
blowing the horns of something's wrong
in an eerie game of charades

the cook that's in her kitchen
bakes a don't dare go there souffle
though she dips her fingers in it
through out her darken days

you may take the chance in joining her in dance
on this the razors edge
when all is said and the day has bled
she pulls the sheets of madness up on her bed