Brace for the rip tide's
crash and sweep and pull.
Light, hazy blue,
flares safe heavens,
beckoning a breathless plea

There has never been peace in drowning.
Because every wave worth fighting
demands a hero who can breathe underwater

Welcome to a land that is not.
Don masks and play pretend.
Characters are outfits to be tried on and shared,
merry heroes until the end

Off to steal glory from the world
and etch their names in the legends to come.
Every impossible tale of beating the odds
and pray doesn't roll you a one.

I know what I am to become.
Revel in the gazes casting me insane
Only I have seen the future from the pavement,
hidden like a painting stolen from its frame

This is my autobiography!
A fluttering, open book caught up in the wind
Telling my story faster than it can be written.
A thriller all the way until the end

The last star before the dawn
fights all the majesty of a brilliant sunrise.
The last remnant of the night,
drowning in an over saturated sky.

When the curtain calls come
to usher everyone off stage,
the last star before the dawn,
through morning haze and window panes,
takes its final bow

A shutter clicks in flashing colors,
recording the imaginary.

The wheezing voice of tales unfolding,
now hoarse from an endless retelling.

Capture what we can't remember,
make up everything that's left.

A faint, but echoed, call to arms
that no on hears on set

"When am I?"
Calls a young man's voice.
"Once, I could freeze time.
Once, I could read every detail."

"When am I?"
Calls the old man's voice.
"I've lived a full life,
but I know not how long that is."

"When am I?"
Whispers the westbound wind.
"The sun rises faster every morning
and night only falls when I blink."

"When am I?"
Asks no one at all.
Silently studying history
whilst looking for riddles undiscovered.

This is a stroll through the valley
of the last Forgotten God.
The walls, overgrown, throw shadows
that whisper when the wind blows

Step gingerly
through the maze ahead.
The temple is fragile
and the slumber of the unknown
is a blessing

After time's cruel neglect,
pray at the empty dais.
The only lost
is losing faith again

Down a
forgotten lane
in a canyon of corn,
a blue ban calls new life to this
old world.

Gather
around the stall.
Don't let the foal's whiney
be an unanswered question to
live ears.

Shaky
legs held us all
when we were fresh and blind
Take pride in teaching to see a
new soul

Exhaustion drip the night away,
bleeding the clock of every second.
Drifting on a raft of dimlit dreams,
down a river of wayward thoughts.
Stopping and starting.
A blurry room fades
to backlit black.

Float,
sink down with every breath

A broken haze drifts down
form a gray and weary sky.

Who has cast this blanket?
It is dampening our light.

Lift this dull affair.
Bring the sun back to our lives

End this tiresome evening
of speckled windows and soft sighs

It is quiet in the halls.
All the merriment has died.
Paper lines the floors,
all the elves have gone to hide.

Tonight we will sleep in,
for there is no more surprise.
No cookies are left out,
just happy smiles on Christmas night

A taxi drove past
at two in the morning,
blurring through the street lamp halo
painted on the sidewalk.

A click.
Flash frozen,
stuck speeding stationary,
clipping the spotlight.
And the night hanging off the lamp pole
does not appreciate
being caged away

The bed is empty again.
Warmth settles in the void
now reclaimed
by neatly tucked sheet corners
and a fading memory in the mattress.
A wayward dream of soft snores
begging to come true

One pillow
recovering from a restless night,
the other
frozen like marble.
Too foreign to be disturbed.
Too real to be dismissed.
Too distant to be admired