I dream,
Let me slumber, kind heart.
Stare into the fire,
Burn your eyes with the truth.
As a falling star turns to dust,
Dreamers will awake
To the sound of an ending world.

I cry,
Sing to me, minstrel.
A tear will flood this barren land
Our hearts have run dry of love.
Listen as the sisterhood prays,
Shouting out to the gods
That forgot us.

I crawl,
In the dark, take me.
These wounds have turned septic,
With the poison in our veins.
Read my lips as I sing of a battle,
A page out of an endless book,
Written with the sins we bled.

I forget,*
Enlighten me, lost soul.
Have the gates been closed,
Have we lost all hope?
Blood and dust,
Pain and misery,
Where have all the good men gone?

One day, I know
that he will ask
questions,

Children have a way
of noticing things
that are there,

seeing shapes
and shadows
that aren't,

A special talent for noticing
missing things and finding
words to help them understand
what shadows mean
and how the sun shines.

Some children grow up
and ask where the sun
goes when the shadows

grow,

I know

that the silver
lining is a cliché,
but I keep looking at the clouds
expecting a miracle,

but the rain brings
no relief,

only pelts me with reason
after reason to keep writing
to you, even though you'll
never read these words,

I know one day

he will.

The sun always shines,
somewhere,
even on the cloudiest
nights, silver lines slice
through in patches,

and all the shapes
and shadows tell
me that.

A horizon and a half to see-
he's putting mind over matter,
and I think it might matter.
But how is one to find out?

Does the Jellyfish not sting,
or the caged bird sing?

My answers are not confident,
despite some marvelous attempt.
I'm still held in contempt
over a crime drowned below the surface.

She raised the platform, fortunately.
And unfortunately,
she was only there hypothetically.

(She still has no idea

…

okay, I ate the last chocolate.
***** me.)

Next time,
I'll catch you if you fall.
And cage you if you sing.

To my ninth decade I have tottered on,
  And no soft arm bends now my steps to steady;
She, who once led me where she would, is gone,
  So when he calls me, Death shall find me ready.

Woken by nightmares
of falling choppers,
into another day.

They died like soldiers,
but I, in between,
here must stay.

Until the darkness
comes, when again,
I will fall away.