I've fallen off the radar.
fallen between the cracks
and I don't know if I have
the strength, or the courage, to make it back.

The world disowned me.
The world set me free.
But I don't know now who I am supposed to be.

I'm in a state of suspended animation
hanging by a thread
from a needle that is my life.

My mood is like spring showers,
dismal and gray,
Saturating and lasting for days.

The heart that ticks
Inside her chest
Will talk to someone else.

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.

Wolf in the winter cold,
jaw narrow,
good for striking hard,
no brother by my side,
only fur on my back,
violent beast attacks,
downpour of teeth to flesh,
as my sword penetrates,
I feel its heart,
cold and black,
run through the sword,
and down my hand,
soul of this wolf,
not of this world,
for as soon as it passed,
the beast turned to ash.

And a woman who held a babe against her ***** said, "Speak to us of
Children."

And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit,
not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you
with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that
is stable.

I in my life,
have the life entire,
to prove this wrong,
In about one hundred years strong,
you wont believe in god,
As the age of pisces hath passed on,
the bull and the ram,
long since been gone,

the lamb and the goat,
the stupid and weak,
will prey upon,
come the wolves in heat.