She came upon the warm summer breeze,
like a ship sailing back from the darkest sea's,
I heard her whispers, calling my name,
Soothing my pain, like the soft warm rain,
I feel her deep within my soul,
her presence there making me whole,,
she see's through my eyes the darkest pools,
pulls me away from the scourge of fools,
I feel her warmth through her gentle hands,
as she takes me to those unseen lands,
for she will be my moon in the night,
restoring my sight with her radiant light,
reaching forth she takes my hand,
together as one through this barren land.

We are the changelings,
carriers of hopes lost
carriers of hopes born,
casting asside our anchors,
setting sail for destinations unknown,
the calmness of tempestious seas,
horrizons of distant lands,
each journey neither begins,
nor does it ever end,
we are the darkest of skies,
the keepers of secrets,
sifters of the sands of time,
so do your bidding,
drift on a sea of souls.

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.

Blinded by shadows,  didn't see the light,
Should have asked you to dance on a moonlit night,
never caught you a star in warm embrace,
or traced the contours of your face.
never ran my fingers through your hair,
or screamed and laughed like we just didn't care,
never stared into your eyes, as dark as coal,
or poured my secrets into your soul,
didn't understand till it was all too late,
how the sugar sweet candy took care of your fate.

Crawling through hoops made of pain,
standing tall in claustrophobic spaces,
Seeing through eyes, that see through eyes,
Taking on forms that transcend consciousness,
Retreat to warmth,
Ice cold,
Seek Journeys end.

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.

Where for hides love ?
in the laps of the heinous gods ?
tis there that we seek our solace
in the flames of a feigning sun
as swords we are hewn and refined,
but I stand in the darkest pitch
of a moon ray's shadow
Tempestuous mist over these brown eyes
fumbling in the darkness
to this shambolic refrain.

Running through pale shades of life
I thought I could catch love
as a butterfly through meadows of green
yet it hides in the shadows,
some have caught it in its splendour
to store away in a jar on a dusty shelf,
others were not quick enough with the net,
whilst some destroyed its fragile beauty.
In the darkness of shadows, I will wait,
for there will I hear my true loves call.

To take a soul as your own,
to catch its breath in your heart,
to feel its warmth in your blood,
holding it as though it were your life,
a delicate flower held in your hands,
it heals all of your sadness,
it feels what you feel and understands,
no words ever needed to be spoken,
silent understanding of all your needs,
shares the vision through your eyes,
feels your breath as if it were its own,
for this soul is yours and yours is mine.

The quiet synergy of life,
the ebbs and flows of its tides,
the quietness of its waves lapping against the shore,
tempestuous waters crashing against the rocks,
its buoyancy keeping all afloat to journeys afar,
as the ancient mariners we must have faith in our vessels,
that on these waters we will arrive at our destination,
gazing into far off horizons what do we see ?
shimmering sun beams on the tips of waves,
or darkest of clouds that stir up the deep,
all will change of which certainty abounds.

What is it that we see in others yet not in ourselves ?
why crave the footprints left by those who's path is already made ?
paths within paths, journeys within journeys,
look to those things that you hide in your soul,
unlock the secrets contained within your heart,
heal within the waters contained therein,
follow no one, seek not others words,
neither take no thought for tomorrows,
live not in pasts that remain in thoughts,
guide not those who's wisdom surpasses your own,
neither take water from such to quench your thirst,
look only to the light that shines within,
when you are ready, the guide will appear.

The sanctuary of pleasures unknown,
to nurture the soul in the warm waters of a cerebral fix, yours for the taking if you could only see what I see, feel what I feel,
martyrdom, if only for a day, for a night,
the train arrives, come jump on board,
take your seat, it bears your name,
we will travel to worlds never seen,
to destinations unknown,
come take my hand and we will sojourn there,
to the waste lands, the places band that you have been told never to go,
seek and you will find, learn and you shall reap that which you sow.

Tired of the same old dreams,
searching through the palest of moonbeams,
surfing on the tops of restless waves,
counting the hours of these endless days,
praying for things the soul does not need,
to the morning gods, the powers of greed,
mirrored ceilings and heart shaped pools,
senses played in this ship of fools,
someone come and take my hand,
the coolness of water in the barren sand,
yesterdays remain in the past,
futures grasped that never last.

This is that
that becomes this
life is full of thats
in a time full of this
read the riddle of that
find all the answers to this
this will then become that.

Within this solitude of slumber,
lay thoughts that rip my soul asunder,
the quill won't wait nor does withhold,
the things in my mind that must be told,
penned with tears, diluted with pride,
carried forth on a moonlit tide,
messages sealed in bottles of hope,
laconic gods that twist the rope,
riding my spirit with consummate ease,
these ghosts that whisper in the breeze.

In the swirling tempest she waits,
a spirit held in reverent patience and abandoned solace.
Just as it was always meant to be,
her ice cold hands reach out,
pulling me in to the unknown,
a void so willingly embraced.

I look in to your eyes,
soul unlocked,
pain released,
drawn in,
consumed,
swimming in oceans of freedom,
never want to go back.

Does a soul have a soul ?
to whom should it blame its transgressions on,
when it tastes death, where does it look for life,
who will carry its imortality ?
for if my soul is left to wander,
should it too look to leave its form ?
in the darkest hours it too should look for light,
yet imprisoned within itself no light can be found,
souls within souls, devils within devils,
all is indeed vanity if this cannot be understood.

Trombone faces, up and down,
the smile we paint, a lurid frown,
dance to tunes we cannot hear,
suffer in silence, courting fear,

Too much said in the darkness zone,
to the voids of chaos we are thrown,
with skittish punches we must roll,
the space between the juddered soul,

tried too hard to swim this sea,
to the moonlit shores that set us free,
always others sharpening their axe,
to cut us down as scythes through flax.

yet sentinels of hope we must remain,
whilst dancing to this sad refrain,
through the darkest words that spew,
look now to arms that hold us true.

The equilibrium of how warm meets cold,
the synergy of spring meeting summer,
the calmness before a storm,
how the first rain drops gently fall,
the smell of parched earth as the dampness spreads,
glinting sunlight through a passing grey cloud,
folded umbrellas drying by a door,
containing residues of the past, yet primed for the days ahead,
the darkness of mood lifted by a lovers smile,
futures unfold in the tears of an eye,
cares taken away by the simplicity of being,
calmness residing in the eye of the storm.

I see the twinkle still in your eyes,
the grey clouds closing in on your smile,
ambiguous laughter still echo's in my ears,
ghosts that walk through the shadows you cast,
reaching with a hand I cannot touch,
grasping I wish to touch your soul,
there are tears but only in my eyes, not yours,
I see it tearing you away,
like a desert carcass waiting for the rain,
disappearing, fading, translucence.
if I could only wear your mantel,
takeaway the weight from weary bones,
time to rest your head on my shoulder,
sleep only sleep, my sister, sleep,
tally with me and we shall ride the morning.

She paces through life like a tiger in a cage,
back and forth, she yearns to be free,
for she knows that freedom has a price,
laments for her soul in the darkest of hours,
yet it drags through the night,
like a bow across strings playing a woeful tune,
bargains with the moon for secrets untold,
for she knows that is her sanctuary,
feelings like salt in an open wound,
longs for the boatmans call .
for she knows that he will take her to shores unknown.

I just want to know who I am,
so tired of being in others shoes,
taking on new identities,
barking at imaginary moons,
pulling up the roots of others trees,
am I just an empty vessel,
waiting for the newness of the seasons wine,
I know my soul but it no longer knows me,
maybe its me but I can no longer feel,
am I already dead inside,
feelings I once knew grow more distant everyday,
can some please tell me who I am,
can you show me and take me there,
to the places of green, to find my home,
I am forever dead inside.

Hidden from the world for so long,
she unfurls her pale face from the sanctuary of darkness,
weeping with her head held low,
she knows she must say goodbye
to the the comforting arms of her winter tomb,
the uncertainty of what may lay ahead,
as she reaches forth for the pearly rays of a springtime morn,
the dew moistens her parched lips,
telling of the promise of the newness of life,
the warmth of a springtime day, dry's her tears,
all is new, all is fresh, all is within herself,
searching, reaching, grasping the hope of what may lay ahead,
now she presents all of her hidden beauty to those who would wish to see,
so it is at this time of the year, that we should gently caress her face,
lest she falls and retreats back into the darkness of her crimson night.

The toxicity of life,
I feel it pulsing through my veigns,
like the venom of a snake,
vision so blured that I cannot see,
work, money, house, family,
whilst life quietly passes by,
tip toeing past like a cat to a bird,
the clock ticks louder everyday,
beating like a drum,
louder and louder in my head,
time to spread these wings and fly.
fly away, soaring to destinations unkown.

Death, we cannot escape its mournful grasp,
there to greet us in in our heaving rasp,
reaching the end of our incumbent race,
it engulfs us like a pythons embrace,
coiling around our souls in a macabre dance,
hypnotic eyes as we succumb to its trance,
long since departed souls smile in an ironic bliss,
betray our presence with a Judas kiss,
so underneath the vultures stare,
we must now go and prepare,
for time is no longer our friend,
neither cares for the plans that we attend,
so take no thought for matters at hand,
for we are all but grains of sand.

If you could feel what I can feel,  

Sleep would be kept from you too,

Watching the sheep count my dreams,

Waiting for the rain to start,

Torn into pieces before the dawn,

Phantoms twitch into life,

They watch me squirm on the edge of a knife

Imaginary tunes ring in my ears,

Dancing round the room held up by strings,

Never ending words upon a canvas soul,

fluttering ribbons on a maypole,

Waiting for the clocks to laugh,

The mists of time choke my breath,

If you could feel what I can feel,

Sleep would be kept from you too.

Electric eyes that try and see,
yet you think you know me,
the truth makes you squirm,
yet in credance you will never learn,

It's the essence of your belief,
hollow pots that are full of grief,
tantric words massage your soul,
shouting words from a fathemless hole.

you think you can take it all,
but a trip always precedes a fall,
there's alway something left to sell,
but no more words left to tell.

You told me no one would come,
never listen to the voices in your head,
walk on paths that lead to the dark,
to the moonlit heavens amid the stars,
take to the old wooden ships,
ships that sail to those ports in your mind,
the vanity contained in your youth,
the way the curtain always falls on your truth,
smiles that hide in the gardens of solitude,
heinous streams at the back of your soul,
hands held out, make me grasp hold,
take me away, take me off the grid.