If I took a walk around
In your unconscious, what would I find?
Would I see myself bouncing around
Like a pinball
Or soaring through the air
Like a phoenix rising?

Would I collide with your dreams
And be annihilated?
Would I see you naked
And cowering in your shame?
Or clothed in all your splendor
Like the day our eyes first met

If I took a walk around
In your unconscious, would I see how to love you?
Would I witness your favorite movie?
And be splashed by your favorite colors
Would I see the pain that you stowaway
Or the smiles you've yet to discover?

Would I want to run from your demons
Or take up sword and shield?
Would I see the same man you see
Everytime you look at me?
Or would I stare at myself, thoughtfully, and wonder
Who is this person I pretend to be?

Happiness is not a highway
It's a green exit sign
Failure is not a collision
It's just the yellow lines

Upon releasing my grasp on my childhood fears
I turn them over to the quartermaster
A burly fellow exhibiting a sneer with no rival
And as I watch, he packs them tightly in duplicity's pouch

The walk back down these stairs made of rotting ash
Is now much more precarious than I remember
For time is traveling at such dizzying speeds
That my balance has become flimsy in its disrepair

Despite the rapping of nightmare's hands at my door
I saunter over in stupor to let unwelcome guests inside
Unleashed, they frantically invade every crevice
Leaving just fractions of those who once roamed these dusty halls

There is now but a dim candle on the cupboard
Its remaining light grows meeker by the day
I gather all that glimmers to my eye, as dull as they may shine
And set foot for the only world within my reach

Outstretched hands
I'm governed by a cycle of choices
Wash.
Rinse.
Repeat.

Dirt under my fingernails
I listen to a thousand voices
Wash.
Rinse.
Repeat.

Gripping a shovel
I break earth and hit layers of shale
Break.
Stop.
Withdraw.

Eight barren harvests
Yielding no fruits, just broken, rusted locks
Break.
Stop.
Withdraw.

I suppose by now my disposition is bitter
The gravitas courses these bloodless veins
Write.
Speak.
Destroy.

I collect no glee from your failure
Nor scintillating coins that rattle like chains around feet.
I just write.
Speak.
Destroy.

Tell us your witty tales, bard
Don't leave us whimpering and suffering
On the other side of this pale, pitiful, world
Tell us anything to ward off the demons
Tell us something to make the ale taste better
As we swim where dreams and nightmares clash

Drench our sorrows with your songs, bard
Send all the soldiers and waifs home tonight
With wrinkled smiles on forlorn faces
Strum your chords as we gambol about
Hit your notes as we hit each other
And laugh spitefully at fate's cruel jokes

In Edinburgh,
Where all her colors were born
Where blues grazed her eyes
And every lavender was torn

In Edinburgh,
Where lips of violet were pursed
Where the greys all surrendered
And the Lothians touched her first

In Edinburgh,
Where cobblestone formed her feet
Where her kiss swept through meadows
With windswept hair like golden wheat

In Edinburgh,
Where her roots took hold in the moors
Where her innocence first trembled
And nimble toes danced along shores

In Edinburgh,
Where her sins became my daydream
Where a tomorrow may never come
And her love only flows downstream

One second glance
Into the looking glass
And I am swept away into a fantasy
Whisked by gales I try not to withstand

Radiant, brilliant, like a summer's eve
You cast a spectrum of light into my soul
Fragrant, ravishing, like flora from Atlantis
You tug and pull at every tout string

I am obliterated with beauty
And awash with such fair grace
Destroyed by the sweetness of your lips
Made whole again by a touch of your hand

If I open my lips I may be speechless
But you walk the ground within my mind
Read me quickly before I wither away
And my song will echo the great divide