dear you,

please remember that your voice has power.
power to raise an ocean of words,
please make them mean something.
power to create a storm,
please don’t destroy too much.
you have been given hands to create,
a mind to wonder,
a life that is worth living if you make it worth living

The places there are that go forgotten
Through alleys at night down and to the left
Dim neon, wires, cracked pavement and smoke
Something always more obscure
Hidden further back and under
Than the most secret thing you know
The city turns in on itself at a point
Where places once known become strange and distant
As if despite their nearness
They've grown so very far
Ever churning and rearranging
As if with a mind of it's own
The city is restless
Stretching out that it might breathe
A cool breath of the still night air
Beneath the waiting stars

These are the hands that will guide you to greatness,
These are the hands that will stay through the years,
These are the hands that will celebrate good times,
And these are the hands that will wipe away tears.

These are the hands that will love you forever;
When you are weak they will help you feel strong,
And, right now, since these hands are entwined together
These hands are precisely where they belong

The Flame is dull
Calm hues of lilac and amaranth
Soon it will diminish
And fade into the west
Great voyages and hunters
Will seek it in distant lands
They desire it covetously
That they may reignite
The first city below
Little do they know
The flame is not what they think
And its forced return
Will doom them all
For the moon looms ever closer
It quivers and shakes
Eager to break apart
And rain down upon the earth