Come dream with me my love,
Feel what it's like to be young and alive once again.

I know there are dragons and fire and chains,
and the tower you're in has become home and you feel safe in there.

But it's still a prison that holds you,
and I know how you cry through the lonely nights,
and I know all your princes deserted you,
and I know that hope has laid you bare.

How I long to fight for you.

I know I'm only a poor boy,
and I have all my own demons still to face.

But I want to build you a castle of comfort,
a free place where you can wake up to my smile.

I hate the scars they've left on your heart,
and the way the crushed your wings.

I know your strenght is weak my love,
I just need you to say yes and to take my hand.

Barefoot,
Along the thorny path,
Across the splintered bridge,
Over the icy lake,
Onto the muddy banks,
Into the empty hall,
Feeling the velvet carpet,
Sticking to the messy kitchen floor,
Cut up by the broken glass,
Cleaned in boiling water,
Wrapped in a warm bed.

The last kiss,
the last touch,
the last smile,
the last tears,
the lost love.

Lost time,
regret,
we forget:

Only shadows of shadows remain.

Today has ended with the folding sun,
The evening flickers with the candle light,
Lay low the lights I'm going blind
by your face that looks so pretty tonight.

Lay with me,
Stay with me,
Pray with me
Baby.

Dazzle my body with your glitter eyes,
Ease my pain with your candy lies,
Cry your tears on my naked soul,
then rip it out and take it home.

Heal me,
then **** me,
mess with me
baby.

Purge me,
****** me,
Love me
so truly.

Kiss me
with poison
break me
and use me.

Lay with me,
Stay with me,
Pray with me
Baby.

Let it slide,
let it glide,
open wide
and let it hide,
let it fade
into the haze,
let it be,
let it be.
let it go
on it's own-
never seek,
never know.
never feel,
never see
what it's like
to befriend me.

It was dark
and I was in a void.

A void?

A void.

A void
blacker and stenchier
than your charcoal little souls...

And then in the night-
I saw a light!

The light grew brighter and brighter
and whiter and whiter-
when suddenly I heard a sound...

Chook...

Chook a puff puff...

Chook a puff puff oh **** its a train!

And that is why I'm here in hell
with all of you.

There was this old dawg from Japan,
who thought his left arm was a ham.
He salted it lightly
and took out a bitey
and screamed for some more as he ran.

----------------------------------------------

There was this young girl from the stars,
who stopped for some pudding on Mars.
The more that she ate,
the more she lost weight
until all that was left was her ****.

----------------------------------------------

I knew a young duck called magoo,
who liked to spend time at the zoo,
when the lion escaped,
he put on his cape
and fed everyone carnivore stew.

----------------------------------------------

There once was a girl called Cherise,
who befriended a flock of white geese.
They taught her to fly,
and as years passed by,
she grew feathers, two wings and a beak.

-----------------------------------------------

You know the inventor called Einstein?
He once had beer with his eisbein....
A rock n Roll pout
soon formed on his snout
and now he listens to Rammstein.

-----------------------------------------------

This­ ninja loved his katana-
he used it to cut through bananas,
one wicked night
he slipped with a fright
and cut off is head in the drama.

We're walking in a hazy maze,
always lost,
always found,
always almost...
nearly touching,
nearly staying,
nearly keeping...
then its over.

lost in your ocean
and I don't want to find my way back to shore.

You consume me
-the sweetest thing
- life in a bottle
-the best wine to get drunk on drips from your lips
-I'm an addict.

I drank deep and saw terrifying visions
that stole my sleep
and dried out my appetite.

The room around me was on fire,
my ship was burning down,
no wind could save me now.

I found my salvation
on your soft bed
of crushed shells
and forgotten sand
in your deep big blue.

I died in your greatness,
I've been swallowed by this love.

She's a treacherous thing,
such a beautiful dream,
she's a heavenly creature,
but don't let her darkness entertain you.

She will drive you wild.
She will take you down
to a faraway country.
So don't let her raven eyes enslave you.

Don't be enamored by the things that she holds dear.
Don't believe the sweet words that she whispers in your ear.
Don't look directly at the sun.
Don't fly to high you'll burn your wings.
Don't be a fool for love.
Don't you be a fool.

Scratch the carbon copy dust off your eyeballs.

See the burning colors-
your world is decaying and your time is short.

**** the meaningless euphoria-
your breath is running out,
but you can still make that masterpiece.

You live your days in a haze while your body rots.
The food stuck in your broken teeth-
a constant reminder of your mortality.

You wake up tired and in pain,
gasping for smoke,
the binge,
the escape,
to speed up the inevitable corruption lurking daily around your cage like a sickness.

Buy some time.
Dig deep.
Be your own good parent.
The view must be appreciated.

Everyone is dying.
Everything is changing.
Make it beautiful.
See the beautiful.
Lift the load.
Give release.
Share joy.

Whisper love to passing mist.

The night is approaching when it will all be quiet.
Let death be your blazing sunset
to be admired
and then forgotten.

Her Garden

Her world is an explosion of colour.
Flowers paint her pumpkin walls,
Fuschias dance in her back garden
and exotic roses watch over the plants that play to her music that breezes from her soul.

She is their sun
and their shade-
their very earth
and their rain.

Her children are loved
and her beauty adorned
with the essence of God.

Her Home

So warm.
Large wooden windows give light to the rooms.
To be there is to be in history:
faded photos, art, collectibles, aged mirrors,
take me on journeys to old souls and to myself.

The walls that hold them are boldly coloured and yet so comfortable. Every corner is a suprise placed with care.
The butch duck on the grandfather clock has laid an egg and curiously glares at the fireplace in the opposite corner.
I will always remember her fireplace.

Her bed is dressed with a red and gold silk oriental throw and large pillows resting on the headrest.
In the corner a tree laden with colourful handbags and hats for all occasions.
She has a mirror on an antique dresser for company
decorated with rings and makeup and jewelry
and many many interesting things.
The basket holds scarves and gloves and shoes,
and her sheets hold the moment i was born anew.

Her Art

She is her art.
Full of suprise,
eclectic,
eccentric,
bright.

Her home,
her garden,
her songs,
her interests,
her way.

She smiles poetry and wears classical movies.
She dances flowers and daggers
and speaks mystery and passion.

So soft and perplexed-
a roller coaster of colourful tastes
and memorable aromas.

To meet her is a pilgrimage,
to lose her is to lose an eye.

I'm a man of the sea and I have to,
I have to be free.
I'm a sun of a gun with a bottle,
a bottle of ***.
I'm a man on a mission and the mission,
the mission is me.
I man on an edge and on this edge,
I'll end up dead.

Do you know there are blue skies baby?
Do you know that storm clouds save me?

There's a burning horizon and it's calling,
it's calling my name.
There's this burning ambition for gold,
to save me from shame.

Hide and seek,
I take a peek,
you come so near
then disappear.

I see your smile
but in just a while
I'll hide away
for another day.

the game I play
is truth and dare,
I've worn it out
like an old worn rag.

I don't know you,
you don't know me,
I wont tell
but I actually care.

It's a shallow life
and a shallow dream,
alluded hope,
illusion love,
you're not actually there-

My million pretty faces on an empty fake pedestal.

You weave through my life
like a dream
turned nightmare
turned dream
turned nightmare.

Time is so ****** short to waste it on *******,
Cant you see I'm trying to find you?
How high must I build my castle?

How is it that you're so illusive and far away-
but your scent fills the room
and chokes me with sweetness?
I hate this incessant soppiness!
Argh!

My crazy obsession I try to lie and hide so well-
But it's written on my face in flashing neon colours,
desperation is so ******* unattractive!

Where in heavens name can I find myself a cheap plastic heart?
That doesn't breathe
or feel the need to heal?

If you want money I'll buy you.
If you want freedom I'll lie to you.
If you want a bicycle-
well I'm not really into cycling but I'll see what i can do.

I see so much fear in your eyes-
relationships shipwrecked-
and now you've made your mind up about the facts of life.
You've become the rock of Gibraltar-
tough as nails.

You're scary-
ready to weather any storms-
lonely-
but I still know you're soft inside...

You're just choosing the lesser of two evils-
well for now at least.

I know you still cry for your dreams,
stories that make you long,
but then you remember.

Hey! I get just as **** scared.
I mean, who burns themselves time and time and time again
without changing their formulas on life?

I do.

Rowing on the moonlight,
that falls upon the water,
quiet is the night
on my lake of intimate desire.

The shores are strung with stars
that dance between the morning mist
and the oars caress the water
like the water in your sensual kiss.

I feel the cool wind whisper on my neck
and then I breathe you.
I taste the salt in the ocean air
just like your skin
and then I want you.

There's a rhythm in this motion that will bring me home to you.

I wish I was a lighter I
that touched the clouds as they rolled by
and on the wings of joy I'd fly
far into the bluest sky

I wish that I had held it strong
held it true as we went along
and when the night came I was brave
and fought the shadows from my cave

But I lost my heart one day
in your smile as you drove away
and madness then consumed my mind
I was wrong, I was blind

because in you hope I saw
false as every time before
and I tried to cage you like a bird
with writing out my pretty words

I wish I was as cold as snow
cooled beneath an arctic wind
with frozen blood that could not feel
and no need to make me heal

I wish that I could see the lies
wedged with wires in my mind
I was not yours and you weren't mine
We are angels of a different kind

I wish that I could fix this mess
my insanity made my deeds digress
because its hard to let go of someone I touched
who told me that she loved me much

If I could go and fix the past
and make it better, make it last
I would be my closest friend
a hero that won in the end

But time can't bend back to repair
it's sealed and done forever there
and we are all just broken clocks
chained within and sealed with locks

And you were just a passer by
on a break, saying hi
And I was looking for a missing piece
or maybe just some pain relief

I've been unfair and been unkind
you did not deserve to see my despair
but you responded with human care
I think somehow you understand

And I will be well in the end
as I always get up again
and I'll try to leave this emo ****
it's a bit of an embarrassment

Your light is but a mere reflection of broken stars,
of whose nuances and rumoured brilliance you act out so well.

You are blind my love,
in all our time you never met me.
All you see are the faerie tales
tattooed on the insides of your eyelids.

When the hype is over you fly to the next
and the next
and the next.
I knew from the day we met you would leave.

Even with all the songs you write,
the writers you quote,
your elegant chatter,
your flare that melts men and women alike-
you are still as shallow as pink bunny's and baked beans.

You are the most lethal kind,
if you were at least a ***** you would be honest,
but your softness and kindness
sets men up
to be dropped like broken toys from a fat spoilt brat.

I really don't know why I'm still so tender towards you.

I don't want to go to a heaven with a mansion in the sky,
Where streets are made of gold and no one ever dies.
Where the sea has got no fury and and the sky's devoid of rage.
Where there's happiness forever - but nobody gets laid.

I don't want to see a lion have to stuff himself with grass,
but I'd love to see a surfer try to ride on a sea of glass.
Where there's never any challenges and everyone is made,
where there's never any darkness to blow out candles for when I fade.

I know this world is bitter and very often cruel:
billions going hungry with nothing they can do.
People lying stealing cheating form their brothers and their friends.
Conspiracy and ****** across nations never ends.

But my heaven is a treasure hunt to touch a kindred soul,
where heroes fight the system and rise above this hole.
In it nobody is perfect and only some are sort of whole,
there's a million possibilities, and were not always in control.

I love the fight and the bite and finally coming right,
that fragile moments come and go and we don't always know.
Our humanity intrigues me and I love being alive,
Mortality just feeds me and on it's pains I thrive.

I grant you your religion and I honestly don't know,
what will come in the next season when my coffin's buried low.
I see this world through mortal eyes and an obscured and infant mind,
its a dim reflection baby across a universe old and wide.

I still say prayers to Jesus to calm my burning mind,
and when I feel the gentle breezes I believe that God is kind.
But I can't abide the politics and conspiracies of men,
trying to control me by their opinions of how and when.

My freedom's not just an escape hatch from a prison cell,
a list of rules to follow to avoid a burning hell.
Don't manipulate me with threats and 'facts' that I will drop into despair
I've tried the pretty ideals, but I'm no longer there.

If God is love as you do preach then I have nothing to fear,
there's no where I can run where He isn't always near.
I don't need a church or temple to pretend that I am saved,
or formulas and figures or a smiling friendly sage.

I've heard all the tired arguments I used to preach myself,
and spent years fighting for a cause while my life was on the shelf.
But now I'm slowly building back my heaven to make up for wasted time,
and if anybody asks me- I'm actually doing fine.

In visions,
a coy smile and akward way,
sweet and ****,
on my side.

All my affections have been misplaced,
it has always been her.

Ive seen her shadows in other eyes and felt her tremors in others i touched,
but somehow i missed it and thought they were her.

Im sickened by her only being in my head.

The beautiful views,
the ***,
the songs,
always living for the rush.

Connecting strong,
feeling deep,
traversing this old life ball.

Flying fast,
always between the sun and the moon,
never lost.

And the moon lights my back,
the sun shines on my face,
Bringing luck where ever I go.

I follow it like a shiny coin,
carrying the moon behind me like a balloon on a string,
my manic high.

I found in the sun,
a power begun
of songs that I have sung.

An artist has wrung out
a glorious one,
My heart has gone numb.

Your body is a constellation,
From your hand to your toes,
Your eyes glisten with life,
And your passion whispers ecstasy.

Im letting you go,
My words fail me so,
So careful to break,
Terrified to wake,
Your dangerous magnetism-
Could ruin my world.

Ill build walls against you
and cut off my passion
Become a cold stone,
You will never know.

My inner drum,
my beating soul,
you are gone.

My Semiramis.
I used to dwell in the light realm,
I tried to leave but now not even the darkness will take me.
I live somewhere in a mist realm.

My Bathsheba,
I left glory to come find you,
but just like in the light realm,
you still insist on hiding yourself behind your icy walls.

My Delilah,
one night with you broke me forever.
Your sickness has weakened my soul.

My Jezebel,
in my dreams i always look for your passionate black eyes.
Its dumb and illogical my obsession with you,
you destroy me.

My Diana,
I remember when my life was peace and control,
but you seduced me into turmoil and war.

My death trap,
why do i want you so?

A storm is brewing:
everything is grey.

My mind is grey.

Grey as the forgotten sun.
Grey as a peacock on a pencil sketch.
Grey as the rainbow that lost its gold.
Grey as age and regret and pain.
Grey as your kiss on another man's tongue.

Flowers for my one-eyed girl.
You used to be a beauty queen.
I stole you when you were 18.

And I broke you in,
I broke you in,
I broke your bones
because you were a wild wild creature.

A needle for my beauty queen,
I'll give you everything you'll dream,
Baby wont you marry me.

And I'll break you in,
I'll break you in,
I'll break your bones
because you are a wild wild creature.

Your scars catch your tears
oh so beautifully.
Your scars hide your young young years
oh so beautifully.

So have another whiskey on me
and stop your crying.

Sit with me in a pitch dark room
and lets imagine bright coloured paintings
on the walls and the ceiling.

I need a dark cave to hide me from the sun.
Too much burning beauty,
I'm on the run.

The neon lights,
they loved me true,
they drew me far away from you,
my mind is churned.

I want the freeze,
I want the tease,
to break it down.
I need a slave,
I am a slave,
I am enslaved.

It's because life is so fragile
that the colours are so intense,
that the pain is so immense,
that we love and hate.

This corruption sweetens us,
then prunes us,
then buries us.

Loss teaches us to find,
our honey lies in seconds that tick by,
an eternity of connectedness
that dissipates into the morning fog.

This is the reality we breathe in like shining shadows.

I want to write stars into your eyes,
paint admiration into your mind,
walk an epic movie into your life.
You are honey dripping off a peach of desire.

Come sit with me in a pitch dark room,
Let us be,
Lets sing in a whisper,
in a thick space,
of dreams and desire.

Sit with me,
lets talk some,
for another fragile memory
to be forgotten in time.

I remember when this world was formed.

I danced with the sun and you danced with the moon
and the stars danced around this newborn
celebrating her beauty and magnificence.

The sun glowed through my skin
projecting streams onto the Himalayas.
The red became blue and pure
as the dusty water creeped
through granite ledges and Crushed ice-bergs.

Our hair soaked with dew glided with the wind
and planted into the earth spreading our life
your beauty and my strength.

The song you sang made beings rise from clay to hear your wonder.

I remember your sorrow when the killing began,
my rage was a desease infecting them with blood lust.

That terrified time your cancer formed from thier smoke,
their hatred, their hardness.

Were the tears for them for me too?
The offspring I tainted with sorrow?

Tommorow I will burn them with vengeance for my guilt,
I will ******* them and remove thier sustainence!

Stay my hand my love,
I still love my broken children.
Soothe me with your music
may we be happy once again.

Without warning,
another morning,
another mourning,
another contemplation
of our inundation,
our battle for our preservation.

Until death swallows us whole
and leaves behind only our bones
as a monument to our pain

The bones we hide so well in pretty boxes
6 feet underground.

Before you thought,
There was no world,
no light,
no chaos,
no love,
no pain,
nothing.

When you were born,
a new universe.

poor littow parsite,
wer have you beeny?
Ive gotten my nanny
to knit you a beanie.
Your sores on my skin
are going all cleany
Im sorry I squashed you,
Im such a meanie.

I told her I cared
she went pale and scared...
So I told her I lied
and she broke down and cried.

I tried to be a friend
and jealousy consumed her...
so I tried to be her lover
and she found comfort with another.

I asked her to go
and she didn't want to know...
so I asked her to stay,
now she's going away.

I want to visit your planet,
I want to stop and stay.
I want to visit your planet
one more day.

I want to visit your planet
but now youre going away.
I want to visit your planet
please delay.

I want to swim in your ocean baby.
I want to bask in your sun.
I want to feel your sunbeam shine on me.

I want to cry at your midnight hour.
I want to dance in your dawn.
I want to see new horisons with you baby.

I want to go on a journey
to all your foreign lands.
I want to find those treasures no one knows of.

I want to be your poet.
I want to sing your songs.
So please consider this offer before it's gone.

Time gnaws at aging flesh,
like babies we all try to get up and walk,
we grapple for some selfish soul close by,
we fight for breath,
for light,
for a cool draft from the incessant heat.

Some have the blessing of failed hope and escape soon,
some see another better world through closing their eyes,
some fight the hell with stubborn angry zest,
and others embrace this hell as home.

It all ends in blood:
its what the rat desires,
its what the rat requires.

And though we can sometimes forget,
we feel it with each pain,
each struggle,
each disappointment,
regret:

our inevitable outcome,
the brevity of time,
even all our joys are tainted with decay and death.

We know in this life we are *******-
our only hope and possible redemption is for the invisible,
the unknown,
the jest.

She buried my body at Loggers lake,
Her sweet revenge,
my bitter mistake.
The leaves were brown and yellow and red,
at the final place
I crashed my head.

Hidden

beating body
shaking nausea
wide eyed fear

a trickle down her leg
a trickle down her head

Met jou patetiese pantomiem teen n God wat jy haat
verkrag jy harte en bevestig sy bestaan.

*** seer voel jou vuiste as jy slaan na die wind?
*** groot voel jou ego met die roem wat jy vind?

Swakelinge swig soos skape voor jou opstand en hype
Jou talent is verduister in verganklike tripe.

Jy is nie die eerste of laaste wat laster,
wat liefde verloor met die haat wat jy koester.

Ons is almal maar net wasems wat verdwyn in die mis
tot verniet gaan ons woede en onheilige twis.

Daar is nog genade terwyl die son skyn
om omkeer te maak van die krakende pyn.

Of time.
Inspiration.
Patience.

Flower only last a season,
and the season of this life is clicking by.
Time devours us so slow we dont even notice
how our changing faces fry.

Were suspended between moments gone by
that should have lasted forever-
and hopes for lying vanities
that will be consumed by I.

My cliches clutch like straws
to make some sense of why,
but in the end it doesnt matter
when were all gonna die.

Love,
I  just  want  know,  
like a child.

Is your world cracked with crucifixes?
Are your  life  eyes sparkling?
  
We die  lost,  
We are ill with a sickness called time.

Feel  the beautiful  sun.
Pursue light.
Make  pain flow from your face-
find the salt river called Shiloh
and let her pour down  your lonely path.

Drift  away  in your dream.
And quietly scream.

Corpses in the carvery,
mouths watering with glee,
children running up and down,
one big happy family.
Daddy's having eisbein,
and mommas having roast,
there are innards on the burgers
and flesh smeared on the toast.

The smell of death hangs in the air,
it goes nice with the wine,
the music makes so elegant
the massacre they dine.
They stuff their bellies heavy,
the fat sits in their throats,
they're happy that they came again,
they grab their murdered coats.

Trying to capture a moment, but the moments ever changing.

I paint in oils
-oils outlive my mortality
-oils extend my message
oils prolong my life after death.
It's a gamble because anything could wrong when I'm not there to care for it.

7am:
So I start by sitting in front of a huge blank canvas.

7:05am:
So I start by sitting with a mirror in my hand.

7:30am
The canvas is intimidating.

9am
My mind tries to capture the final product
- composition,
style,
toned down?
bright colours?
thick smears of paint?
hyper realistic?
or make it an abstraction from reality?

11am
I half-fill a jar with turpentine to clean my brushes.
I fill a small jar there with linseed oil to thin the paint.

11:05am
On my palette
-a small squish of cobalt blue
-proceed on thinning it.

11.10am
Lift brush,
dab it into the paint...
almost reach the canvas.

11:15am
I study my face to see where I'll start.

3:15pm

4 hours pass.
The sun has moved.
The shadows are softer
and the shadows longer.

Accurate painting is not about talent as much as observational skills-
thats why you can stop for years but if you have learnt the art of seeing you will be able to paint a more realistic picture than when you quit the previous time.

7pm
All my contemplation sees the sunset
without a stroke being applied.

I flick a switch and a new light appears-
harsher with darker shadows-
it doesnt allow the paints show their true colours
but at least it is consistent.
I don't like what I see in this light.

Days have passed me in front of this mountain-
when I started it was sheer will that got me here-
not because I want to
but because I know I can paint better than most a
nd some will think it's worth something-
might  make a bit of extra cash on the side.

When I was younger I pumped out canvasses faster than toilet paper
but now I dont know Wonder Boy anymore-
too much distance between now and then.

Out of sheer impatience I decide to put a wash over it. I mix a bright orange mixture. and start brushing the canvas-
the brush is too slow so I start pouring it out of it's linseed mixture bowl straight onto the canvass and rub it with a cloth until no more white can be seen.

I hate the result-
my compulsion led me to trade a white blank canvas
for an orange one-
I'm nowhere closer to coming up with an idea than when I started and now I have to wait two days for the paint to dry. By that time I would have aged two days and my resolve might not be what it is right now- the little I have left.

So the final result of my painting-
a blank orange canvas hiding behind my bedroom closet.

She is fire in a kiss,
more than she knows.

She is heat,
power
and passion-
a room on fire.

Yet she stares at me long and slow,
her dark eyes peering into my soul,
trying as she might
to unravel the mysteries of my universe.

The voice once so full of promise has found a new favourite word:
generic.

Generic i love you,
generic i care.

Thoughtless and unimaginative.
Lacking soul,
lacking vision.
As exciting as watching paint dry.

I squeeze for a spark where once was a blaze,
and at close inspection i find:
generic, generic, generic.

Warm molten ice cream drips from her mouth as she drools on here generic branded t-shirt.

Id rather have her curse me than belittle me with thoughtless hollow words picked up in her cliche dictionary.

I'm dreaming of my darling Darling,
so fragile and insecure.
The meadows sway so softly for her,
as angels look on down.
The wisdom of a thousand ages
makes her forget her pain.
The shadows that surround her there
are whispering her name...

Shiloh.
You've found your peace at last.
Shiloh.
It happened all so fast.

Your love-rose has bloomed on this tower of thorns,
and your waiting time has passed.
The problem of trying to figure it out
has given way to love.

(bridge):
Sweet dreamer,
keep on dreaming,
close your little eyes.
Hey child,
save your blindness,
for the hardness of this world.
The sparkling stars cry tears of joy,
just catch them in your hand.
The butterflies will lift you up to the rainbow in the sky.

Shiloh- is where I build my home.
Shiloh- beside the quiet streams.
Shiloh- a symphony of beauty.
Shiloh- who can compare?
Shiloh- whenever you are there-
it's Shiloh.

(repeat bridge)

My world
My whole wide world
is burning just for you.
My world
My whole wide world
is turning just for you.
Shiloh- a symphony of beauty.
Shiloh- who can compare?
Shiloh- whenever you are there-
it's Shiloh.

She is sick-
an infected rose-
with broken thorns-
ailing beauty-
ready to be discarded-
only good for compost-
Ill meet her there.

The skin we are in

is first formed
then stretched
then dried and shrivelled
then decomposed
and eaten by worms.

Lasting beauty is a legacy,
not a face.

I sailed high and far away,
floating aimlessly in the burning blaze,
bashed about by the burly wind,
dreading the dark to come,
clinging to my fading sun,
longing for the land I lost,
the love I killed,
the pain,
the cost.

I know the day will come again,
the calm, the still, the warmth, the earth.
I know my heart will rest again,
the joy, the peace, time will amend.

But I know the dark and the fear and the dread,
and the turmoil, and the rage wedged here in my head.

Tonight in my soul I wage,
my lonely war,
in my sky cage.

Wherever I run,
I'm always looking for the sun
to warm this body frozen by the cold.
I hear them say:
The lights not far away,
around the bend and over the next hill.

Someday we'll run
in open fields
with wild flowers blossoming everywhere,
and we will know,
summers here,
were at home and all our weariness will be gone again.
I'll take your hand
and we will dance
and we will never be alone again.

But winters still here,
and the sky is seldom clear
but at least I know that
I am still alive.
So ill just
look for the sun
until the morning comes
and makes this lonely darkness disappear.

Someday my love,
we'll find love,
and I will sing a song to you sweetly.
I'll hold you close
and stroke your hair
and whisper in your ear so tenderly:
"Its okay,
death has gone"
and we will never be afraid again.

Someday
we'll fly
to the stars
and watch the splendor of a billion galaxies-
spinning round
at our command
and there will be nothing that we don't understand.
Even the night
will be light
and we will never look back again.

but until it comes
I'm still longing for the day
when will never be ashamed again.

This is a song for
all that I long for.
This is a song for the birds
I wish that I could

Tell you a secret
because I know you need it.
This is a song for the birds
I wish that I could

Fly to the moon for you,
I wish that I could

Make it and mean it,
trust it and feel it,
be all I mean it to be-
I wish that I could

Fake it and feed it,
pretend that I need it,
live as your ***** kitchen *****
I wish that I could

Fly to the moon for you
I wish that I could

I must admit that
my loves not all that
Im not your hero on a steed
but I wish that I could

Space,
Satin skin on black lace.

She smells like a dream
and tastes like reality,
but all i find is space.

Mkay so I cant spel,
sue me wat the hel!
Mown like an old gramar
who is stuk in payamas.

Jus leev me an let me be three

>:(

My throat is in old Tupperware bowl used as an ashtray full of burn marks never been cleaned just emptied.

My body is a punch bag beaten up by beer, take-aways and lazy living.

My mind is a collection of old collectible records all scratched and collecting dust in an old forgotten attic.

My hands are shaky spider legs spinning webs of deceit.

My eyes are tired from looking through this mask of strength wanting freedom from the darkness longing to accept the weakness that is.

My feet point forward but they walk backwards.

My desire is on fire, its always been on fire.

My spirit believes in possibilities so ill stick around to see what happens.