One man among many, of this I’m most sure:
on chorus’ carriage she reigns.
But settling with rest, all chaste and demure,
writhing with thirst as we're dangled the cure,
has only led me to more pain.

To rise up the race to a canter,
or let each drown her with cracked song
that shouts loudest deserves her answer?
With men, I’m not much of a dancer -
I won’t whisper sweetly for long.

Born free,
what have you been branded to buy as truth?

You couldn't help but consume the prime conditioning,
angelic thing, they manipulated your blank, slated value with price
Impressionable infant, deficient heuristics anchored in tradition
were all you were given, they represented trend's definition of right

Blind to blinders set by frames,
you will never long for sky you've never seen
While you've been growing, who's been leading?
Who's been sowing, who's been reaping?

Now you are as you're told.
Now you are as you're sold.

You didn't see how your movements were determined: causal reinforcement and cogged belief systems
Hunters exploit the needs of the herd and they traded you meaning for all you were worth
Customerary compliance made you meek and the markets less violent
Your standardized schema had felt so secure, while their fashion pruned passion's significant core

Blind to blinders set by frames,
you cannot be free if you don't see your cage
While you've been growing, who's been sneaking?
Who's been sowing, who has been reaping?

Now you are as you're told.
Now you are as you're sold.

They'll come as salesman, promised happiness in their wares
They'll come as preachers, with taxing cross for you to bear
They'll come for your time, your money
They'll come for your life, and your sunny days
will be grey without that which you never knew you needed
No, you never ever needed

What have you been branded to buy as truth?

You won't choose to see your reflection on the discount shelf,
reduced to pelf, you let them establish the goods so you could be saved
from spending efficient economy, it's ironic that you're their battery
and though their floor is your slaved ceiling, you give your Self away

You won't see your light inside
if you're guided by other selfish minds!
How did you begin?
What have you been?
Who are you now?

O! what enthralling beauty!
This love was quite a catch!
And though our dawn burned through me,
those feelings never last.

The edge that I had felt you with
has dulled and lost its shine.
While, once, I wore you well,
something new will suit me fine.

(or)

Fancy leaves an open space
that's turned to Love or left with haste

His Holy Empire


At the heart of sacred grounds, a shaft of ivory rises
and reigns atop a throne of clouds, where veil of white disguises
a wilting rose, a potted plant; did Gaea plan her fate?
Behind the stained-glass window's view, Joanna meekly waits.


Act 1: Poor Joanna

Twirling her hair idly, Joanna looked up out the window and sighed.
"I've wistfully waited so long for you to come home and save me… Save me from wondering and wandering too far alone." She slumped into her seat. Life was so unfair.

Despite her attempts to resist, Joanna soon quietly submitted to gravity's pull on her drooping eyelids. Just as a smile began to waltz across her face, she was violently jolted upwards by a surge of adrenaline. She instinctively buried her disfigured hand into her abdomen as her eyes darted about the unkempt room and over her unfulfilled duties. She suddenly found herself in front of her dresser's mirror and watched as her shaking hands dug through piles of cheap jewelry and stuffed animals, indiscriminately tossing the toys onto the floor. Finally, her hands found what she had been searching for. Her reflection smiled back as she ritually lifted her brush and began to make herself up.

She hated how her face looked without makeup; she had grown to believe it seemed strange if it wasn't shiny and exotically colored. Each layer concealed her blemishes and bruises so well that she sometimes forgot they were there at all. But now, no matter how desperately she painted, the comfort wouldn't come! She loathed what she saw! Joanna winced away from her tear-streaked reflection.

"Why am I so…"


Act 2: Echoes of Solomon

But she couldn't will the words; she didn't even know what it was that she needed to ask. Joanna felt conflicted and unsure as she was barraged by the jostling images that filled her head. She felt so queer when she had offered to shake his hand instead of immediately taking his arm, as was customary when a bride-to-be first meets the man she's been arranged to marry… so ugly when she noticed that every woman at the wedding was wearing makeup except for her… so damnably rude when, after he had ordered the musicians to play a minuet, she had interrupted them a second time to request a waltz… so ashamed when she had danced with such wild, voluptuous abandon… so horrifically guilty when he stumbled, when she made him grab her hand so forcefully that bones snapped as he dragged her out and scolded her for embarrassing him… so naïve to believe that she could think for herself… so overwhelmingly worthless for failing to meet his expectations?

She hated her desire to dance. She hated her desire to eat. She hated that she was miserable, even though she had done everything that they had promised would make her happy. What was she doing wrong?! She cried, "Why? Why am I…" and collapsed. Joanna's walls crumbled as she let herself be swept away by the rivers of repressed sorrow that welled from her heart. Feeling drained and strangely lighter, she found the will to face her reflection.

"I've been so strong since Saint George has been gone. He'd be proud, I'm filled with prayer instead of fruit!" Joanna was caught off guard by her reflection's sudden scowl. "But the days have grown into weeks unknown… I'm feeling frail, what's a damsel to do?" Joanna turned and looked out around the cell as though for the first time. Her probing fingers disturbed the dust-coated bookshelf as she helped herself up and stretched toward the window's ancient, forbidden latch. She threw open the gates of her perception and leaned out to observe the wilderness through wisps of clouds. Her hair flowed freely in the wind and her eyes beamed like the sun.


Act 3: When Adam Delved and Eve Span

Joanna looked up in a familiar way and said, "Tell me: Who governs the trees beyond the courtyard? Ease me; why are the leaves conceived to fall?" Joanna's trembling knees finally buckled as she cried, "Bear me! I can't stand when all I have are unanswered questions. You left me helpless! Won't you please lead me?"

Joanna tried to get back on her feet, but sickly fell to her knees in a fit of coughing. She looked down at a wooden cross that was framed by the purple of her most luxurious pillow and said, "He taught me what happens when little lambs go astray; with no rod to guide them, they'll find themselves prey. I'm too afraid to leave, though no lock bars my way. He bade me love the leash. In lord's courtyard, I'll obey."

Joanna reeled deliriously as she rose to her feet to be bathed in the growing light from the window. She reached out with a bony finger to touch one of the cherubim that were lacing the window with golden embroidery, but her hand passed through as though nothing was there. Joanna didn't seem to mind. She looked up and said, "I've wishfully waited so long for you to come down and save me… Save me from wondering and wandering too far alone."

As she smiled and dreamt of dancing on clouds, Joanna laid down and died.

Through a winter, long and sullen
I've waited for the weather's change,
for songs of love that sit unspoken,
for spring to bring me joy again.

And in my fading ember's light
I chance upon a gem so bright
with heavy heart and fiery eyes
I dream of what could be!

Prelude:
How could this have come to be, this life, so ever-changing?
these laws that pushed the smallest things to pull the greatest mountains?
and what could cause the chance to think and wonder why we can?
Sophia flowed through mystery where Logos formed a plan.

Act 1:  Epigenesis

First Interlude:
At the heart of sacred grounds, a man claims what is righteous
with ****** standard pointed proud and conduct that disguises
a savage pulse, an ancient thirst; is Cronus set in stone?
Impressing eager, weaker men, Saint George goes on and on.

Act 2:  Saint George

Second Interlude:
Where the wood once bloomed unbound, a shaft of ivory rises
and reigns above a throne of clouds, where veil of white disguises
a wilting rose, a potted plant; did Gaea plan her fate?
Behind the stained-glass window's view, Joanna meekly waits.

Act 3:  Joanna

The hole spews out disease and rot
devoid of fleshy substance
Engrossed by such a gruesome plot
I gulp the zombie's pretense

What makes the morbid fascination
justifying obfuscation?

Now, I see there is no sense
in coining truth that's hardly grown
One thing I've come to understand:
exploit their fear of the unknown

I can't undo!  I'm too taut to lose
a shameful strain, a wired, painful memory
that stresses me to cringe away again.

I know too well what they'd all say:
"Better safe than sorry!"
If I let them down, they'll turn a way,
damning me with folly.

What did you expect
when you held me with regret?
Oh, how could I forget...
How can I forget?

I can't undo.
I can't undo.
I can't undo,
but I can work through.

Day

Day after day
after day after day

Day after day
the dawn will wake
and so will I

From a dreary, dull escape
I'll find the strength
to open my eyes

Through the midday height
I'll guide myself right
for better, brighter ways
(a better, brighter way)

When the weary dusk sets
I'll reap due rest
with honest, easy grace
(shameless, graceful, sweet senescence)


Night*

Use the day
Use the day

See, the light
never dies
it hides away

Why not try?
Let life thrive
against decay

Star echo
seems hollow
but don't despair!
(oh, use the day, use your love and hope)

Love and hope
shape our world
just as well
(to shape our world just)

Isn't it vile to feel such a way
for something that I can't control?

Careful, now, 'lest silence shatter
barricades that hold the heart
and blind to my unchecked desires
prying piece of mind apart