Screaming
in the rain
To the voices
of the wind
It’s singing
about the pain
That I left
in my dream

Soon after the dark
I walked a mile west
To see an old friend
That I left in the past

He was a fool
Who didn't know love

He was in pain
Even when he laughed

He was selfish
And didn't have any dreams

He was alone
Even when he hugged

Drinking from doubt
It poisoned his mind
He became a monster
That fed on his own flesh

And we were talking about the past
Of all the times we were hurt

And sometimes we sing a gentle song
To reminisce about that

And then it's time for me to go
A mile to the west back
I hugged him tight
And told him to keep the past

And I just walked
Never looking back
Never afraid
Again...

Love said the word
Before it learned its worth
Singing about a time
Where all things were without forms

It begins like this moment
A single verse of exhalation
Through all the troubled places
To the door which I persisted

How we feared that moment
When we unify into another
To resist such a pleasure
To control such a power

But it doesn’t matter
For the grand place of wonder
exists to balance each other
Of all the times we believed others
We knew we are each other

I live for this moment
Where I am between the veil
Of the inner working of myself
Of this grand infinite palace

And as I feel all the joy and pain
I merged
into the love
that I am...

With a hint of death
mingling in the air,
the nocturnal snapdragon is
digging wells,
not just for water,
but also as final resting
places for friends back home,
in the garden,
deep within the soil.

Callous hands and feet
speak of insufficiency
and misery under the sun,
the one lone solace comes
with night,
and the partaking of
her body's delicacies,
bringing her innumerably
to the helve,
as she sings heavenly things
about the architecture
we creatures fall
so easily from.

~
Sleep, sweet darling
Sleep

Remember drowsy
blue waters
heal and swoon
the ennui haze

In softly pillowed oblivion
where even your
little toes and feet
touch bottom

Beloved dreamer
in tempera obscurity
there will be no memory
of the procession
ferrying our kipped-down family

They will dance
widdershins around us
with fluttered eyelids
and reclining hearts

But whether an
allegory of the cave or
an analogy of the sun toward
some dividing line between
~either way~

Sleep, sweet darling
Sleep
~