I am between two hands
I am between day and night
I am pushing past the horizon
I am pushing past the sky
Past the darkness over morning
Past the seas and land alike
Past the stars floating, swimming
Oh, how my heart knows the strokes of
Those wheeling, spinning stars.

You are nothing now,
but if I had the chance to wish one thing of you,
it is this:
(may your past rest in parenthesis)
only an aside in the monologue of life
a soliloquy to the fourth wall of dramatic irony
a bracketed prologue to your story  
interjecting an understanding of now and everything from now
in a seemingly never-ending pattern
as present becomes past and enters the parentheses

when your death came and your last words and thoughts slipped behind you
death was the only thing left unsheltered
as your brackets came to a close
but may you rest in every moment and memory you contained in interjection thus far,
(may you rest in parenthesis)

Awakening from centuries of sleep, trapped in a dream with open eyes.

A witness to the horror bore of hateful minds, safely a once beautifully free soul is now held inside.

Waves of true intention seem to bubble at the surface, fighting to escape the hand of absolute control.

Hard is the battle against that which cannot be seen, while forced to follow the rules of a role.

Where the dark dissension breaks the rulers at their core, bright souls begin to wake to view the desolate land.

Once a broken, shattered and divided people, now find the common love for which together they will band.

Never was there ways to stop this wave from crashing on existential shores, never could they stop an open heart from wanting more.

Meadows with rows of flowers.
Trees encircle them as if to protect there innocence.
Untouched,
Except by nature.
Feel the fall breeze.
Smell the cold fragrance,
Isolated from the world.
To think,
And to be yourself.
Closing my eyes and see your picture on my shelf.
I will be a mist in the wind,
Waiting for you to come home.
Where you have a lonely heart to mend.
And may my love send you back down that empty road you roam.
And I hope in your search,
You see me in your eyes when you look in the mirror.
And maybe I could be lucky enough,
That you might find a tear.
It seems so long since you've been gone.
You left without saying goodbye.
I walk entwined within the trees,
As if to hide behind there outstretched arms.
They seem to comfort my hurt.
Only the leaves can hear my cries.
In my eyes,
I can see your smile.
In my heart,
I can hear your laughter.
I hope in your travel,
You find your way home.
I will still be here,
Just the way you left me.
I will be a mist in the wind,
Waiting for you to come home.
Where you have a lonely heart to mend.

I open my fridge door and what do I see?
A half empty bottle of beer, relishes, old vegetables and water.

I close the door.

My groaning stomach persuades me to open the door once more. Like an alter ego, I obey it's commands.

I'm sure this time, there will be food, food that was invisible just a second ago. Food that I will see, if I look hard enough.

I grab the chilled silver handle and give it a pull. Wide open swings the door to reveal food galore!--

Oh wait, there's no food, not even a decent beverage. There's still just a whole load of nothingness and hunger.

A deep dark depression cuts me like a knife through butter. no food here, no food there, nothingness all around just starvation and suffering.

I close the fridge.

The cycle repeats itself.


Such is life.