there's a beat
a rhythm to the step
in which the festering wight
ascended those steps
carved into the great mountain

a certain heat
escaping from its lips,
shrouding and smoking,
leaning great rimmed horns
and a snarl to match the dip

a certain weight,
involuntary and hidden
burden carried without sight
knowing, diving into the unknown
into the orchestra of this strange creature

dancing among the prongs  
facing headstrong into the blazing wind
a gasp of relief, a sigh of terrible scare
as the stairs welded narrower
it had not the wings to fly
but save for the fire in its words
and the power in its horns,

an ugly beast set out alone
a wayfaring stranger like
any other,
it feels the notion too
feels the fragile, flickering gaze
of empty space underneath
its feet

like a knotted fist squeezed so tight
that creases fall into crisp white lines
feel the heartbeat circulating,
pulsing through the membranes
etched into the tissue of this
fist-knotted remembrance,
hopeful succession into the white capped seas
a simple touch, a simple shove  
and a burden to keep afloat the flood
holding onto my own gnarled fist
I think there was a stalk of lavender
crossed in the palm of where
the wild things lay,
churning nightmares and twisted sheets
cast upon the dusty shaft of sunlight
and I'll be alright, this fistful of lavender
scented of my dreams to keep
and future to see, the love yet to be
to break into tears at the sight
of beautiful architecture,
the foreign language unsettling on my tongue
never let go of this fist,
the fistfull of lavender

the smirk creeping behind
vertical shafts of wooden surmise
pale pastel gold, deep blushing orange
faint impressions of stars
like a single bead of sand
toppled onto the white washed beach
where the pink coral tore wreckage
trees uprooted, a hawk nested
absent of a human presence
for some artifacts man cannot know
that the sun is beautiful
and the sea cries remorseful
the wind a living organism
the pink coral skeletons
and a new day's rise
a blessing in disguise

How can I ever explain my self?
I was always searching for souls
I don't want you  to look in my eyes
Unless your ready to fall in

I fall asleep with a brush
Hoping to paint my dreams
When it's my nightmare
That will be my masterpiece

Acrylic idealist
Oil and water
Pastel mystery
Empty canvas

How can I ever explain myself?
I was always wanting to feel
I don't want you to look into my eyes
Unless I'm looking into you

I was born on destruction
And raised in rage
And saved
When I feel creation with you

Hopeless romantic
Fire and ice
Beautiful monster
Lost soul

sway not to the fresh wave of sea's reprise
           fly, gallop, shrieking with delight
                        do as you must to prove your heart
                                   still jitters upon the sight of striking lighthouse