Red dust clouds on my path,
Which settle at my door,
Lead back into my past,
Form footprints on my floor.

The footprints at my side
At times have turned to rust,
I would you have my truth,
In faith He has my trust.

The field where knowledge grows,
The only place on earth,
You let your goodness show,
For all that it was worth.

In silence there we walked,
But yet I can attest,
Your presence was enough,
To put old pains to rest.

So softly then you told,
You spoke to me of love,  
To love but learn alone,
To search but seek above.

For now is not the time,
And now is not the place,
But now my mind is set,
And now my heart doth race.

For words when they are true,
Know not the touch of rust,
But settle on the soul,
Which won’t return to dust.

So speak to me once more,
Then tell me once again,
Form footprints by my side,
Leave words that will remain.

Ben

I ascend the stairs to centre stage,
Beneath a barren balcony.
I hear the phantom crowd's applause
As I approach my mark and pause,
Beneath a floodlit canopy.

Like a sparrow then upon my fence,
Who sings his own soliloquy,  
Without a soul to hear me thence,
I speak my heart at their expense,
Who in their absence never hear me.

I whisper words to dying flames,
That now are just an ember,
In younger days our lustful games
Love trapped inside of photo frames
That help you to remember.

For lovers who have lost my trust,
Do I produce my vengeful sword,
My feet they lunge upon the dust,
Across the stage I stab and ******,
To strike down Brutus, once adored.

And in the tide of our affairs,
Tis love who wears the laurel crown,
To rapturous silence I take the stairs,
The long lost loves still unawares,
Of the house that's been brought down.