Left by the road side of loves great dream,
laying in the ashes and the dirt,
looking for a glint of light,
but the darkness surrounds me,
like a snake waiting to strangle my soul,
bleeding it out in the dead of night
left for dead in the wake of your words
allready building my funeral pyer
its flames calling out my name,
purged from this pain in this hour of need.

How we love to paint with our eyes
pictures distorted with angst reprise
judgement made by a fleeting glance
media sporned advice to make us dance

Peel back the outer layer
as blinded faith to make a prayer
steal yourself an opended view
look within with thoughts anew.

Ever tasted death ?
the ethereal mist of a new dawn,
swirling around your soul,
like a serpent made of tears

Give me some tincture,
save me from this house of fire,
eaten alive by all thats truth,
corked in a bottle filled with lies.

drink the potion.
savour its taste,
exquisit to the last,
the elixir of life,
half a six pence,
a mouth full of rye,
kiss all the big girls,
make them cry,
I'll swap you some ill gotten gains,
take away all of your pains
rancid acid on the buds of your tongue
re write the script,
right all the intangible wrong.

I am such a rediculous being
look in the mirror without even seeing,
a decrepid image is all I can see,
is this thing really me ?
chipped away at all the years,
nothing to show but frozen tears,
how dare I think or even be,
sink back into the hollow me.

A mothers embrace teaches you so many things,
security and protection,
warmth and comfort,
softness and sobriety,
yet among these feelings
comes a sense of strength,
a timeless intuition,
her strength is inherent,
it comes forth from the innermost secrets of nature,
it always felt as though it was limitless,
even now that the hair is grey,
and her beauty long since diminished with age,
I still feel it all.

Here in the darkest recesses of this hallowed ground,
do I sit in my shredded clothes lamenting my soul,
what trickery is this that my spirit should spout forth such a distasteful drone,
welcome one and all says the banner of my grimace,
let me show you some wonders to behold,
such cordial tales in this darkest of catacombs ,
come feast on these bleached bones,
oh retched man am I,
set aside all thoughts for the morrow,
for here is my curtain call,
hanging from the hands of a faceless clock.