Born into dawns spark
of suspicion .
Following faiths track
to eternity.
Questioning the rails
I traipse .

She knows the clouds
breath
crashes in the rocks
refrain .
Yet she fights for the
equality of senses .

We meet at the summit
of a lonely dreamscape ,
with flowers and nymphs
beautiful and armorous .

At the trees spire
we found meaning
as treasonous
blossoms return .
Dripping from loves
estotic comeback
nectar running down
her leg .

While her ballad is
written on ancient winds .
Sung as tragic owls
slip the spires
and wander the
broken fields .

While I lay dying
into dusks arresting
berth of acceptance .

She floats above
the crashing rocks
of freedom .

Road of peace
The tranquil poverty
of my soul .

Seeking an atonement
for the souls of the dead
on smoking paths .

Whispered words drift
into the tidal coves
of imagination.
Infinitely sad
the lost echo
of the echo.
A wrecked angel
of honor lost .

With a blade forged
in the fires of
disturbing experiences .
Through the noises
of trying to be quiet .

Lost in you in the shattered rain
I will be your Captain .

Captain of the side channels
the spaces between the
lines of the slow dreams .

She was one who
would be reborn
in a vibrant silence .

An unpredictable
ebb and flow
of rolling thunder
and eerie stillness.
A paradise reeking
of hidden meanings .

Jousting between
the waves and
the timberlands
was the almighty
quiet verb .

Stepping to the crashing rain
calling her name in
ecstasy and despair.
Trying to love in
the half light of
the soothing sounds
of the long vowels .
Never getting near the
other side of forever .

A decision made
a bridge finally burned.
Hidden behind those
tormented eyes,
a bleeding rose
scorched by fire .

She ripped out an oath
and involuntarily shuddered .
Releasing her fires
so far beyond pleasure .
The ecstasy of innocence
flashed in her eyes ,
those soft brown eyes
intelligent and romantic .
Two seared , burnt
roses of desire .

Lightening splits the darkened sky
and kindles the flame
in her breast .

Mysterious and lunar
Purged of all the
benefits of magic .
She envoked
the quiet ecstasy of
mystical prayer .

A gentle feather lost
in a teardrop .
Temporal words
walked her back
from the edge .

Bloodied by a thorn
from a yellow rose .
Buried deep in the
paltry light
that silhouettes her hair .
Looking at the
soft edge of dawn .
Knowing how much
I’ve surrendered
forever bereft of
the darkness .

I felt the melodies
of faith
and lost her at
the renegade first light .
So religious the fury
of the extinction of hope
beautifully expressed
but slow to comprehend
she handed me a Bible .

I struggle Forth into
the artillery of knowledge
listening to the dark
matter of
crucifixtion music .

Her story moves forward
through the stream
of time on thin ice .
Lost in the pale harmony
of the grandeur
of madness.

She believes she’ll sink
into that ethereal stillness
of Dawn .
I believe her soul will float .