When I write a song,
how can it truly live if all I do is sing it to the wind.
and though the fuchsia of the poui may sway in time,
the rigid roots curl up their toes in excitement
and the kiskadee and the blue dove too, cease their chirping in reception,
My song cannot take its first breath until it touches your heart

Worse than the cries of grown men turning me fearful
Is the silence of the night
Worse than the shrills of executed people
Is the calm before the great fight

Coming to terms with being confronted by what I cannot face
Resigned to the fact, this could very well be my final resting place
So with the inevitable engagement close at hand
logic would discard panic, to formulate a plan

And if I am the one who lay
Whenever the smoke might clear
Let the one standing tall know
Of him, I had no fear

On the marshy banks of the river temptation
I grow shorter, sinking deeper into indulgence
I want to dive in ****, exposing my true nature
but yet, over the fog, across the ripping currents of conformity, I see him.
The man I yearn to be and fear stricken for failure I pull at my legs and pull at the vines and shovel at the swallowing mud consuming me deeper into reality, further from the man I see across the torrent.
Well postured, with a bright smile, a warm wave and a full head of hair
and it is with the image forever branded onto my cortex that I sink in defeat at the seemingly impossible distance between us.

You held my hand with love
as we strolled down the way
Peripherally, i saw wings up above
nothing said, but all to say

As we strolled down the way
frolicking children flourished the air
Nothing said, but all to say
Engrossed in them as we prepare

Frolicking children flourished the air
not far from my bed
Engrossed in them as we prepare
no longer filled with dread

Not far from my bed
peripherally, i saw wings up above
No longer filled with dread
You held my hand with love

I find solace in the melody of the bamboo.
Awaiting the chorus of sunlight
ripping through the canopy
onto the dry leaf strewn clearing caked by the broil of the maker.
All the while a few rebels dance in a cyclone
adding value in their non-conformity to an almost perfect landscape,
a landscape only blemished by tyre tracks, a harsh reminder of the hands of humans in every facet, crevice, orifice, every jar of this earth.

Fear not of man
for men die
Fear not death nor the coming tide
Fear not the tide
for it is inevitable, nature
so embrace it indubitably
Fear not doubt
for uncertainty breeds panic
Fear your ignorance
for such is without limit

Join the ranks of victory,
pArAde through the streets triumphantly.
InHeRent is the thirst for ascendancy.
War is **Masked fear, hidden below bravery,
out over Yonder, few are pleased with their destiny.

Friends can turn faster than the tables,
Re-creating the truth, giving birth to fables.
Irresponsibly blaming others for their evil deeds,
Easily bought by the lure of greed.
Nursing the wounds of those they've betrayed,
Eliminating courage from the hearts of those afraid.
Mounting lies on half truths to find alibis,
Y**earning for a 'friend' to hear their cries.

Where the cookies crumble is where the sturdy will stumble,
Where the cowardice in brave men will surface
And the evil cast out from every crevice
Til' the day when only the honest and clean
Lay claim to this land purged of ill and made serene

By those who truly care for the future of their country,
The fair sharing of bounty,
The welfare of those they neighbour
And the stoppage of all bias and favour.

Where a man need not fear for his children
Even though their future is uncertain.
When behind your shoulder you need not look
For fear of a killer, ****** or common crook.

When the treasury is as transparent as glass
And the parliament seats men not snakes in grass.
When we are no longer short of teacher, doctor and nurse
and the needs of the people are met first.
This is when the politic of the future will carry corruption and incompetence to the hearse
and we will look upon our elected head as a gift, not a curse.

Peaks reach up with puckered lips
dying to kiss the sky
Hills not lush, but green with envy
at the rain, lucky to dwell on high
but the peaks cannot fathom
why the rain would fall to the tree and the sea
when the sky is what they want so very desperately
such is the nature of desire
all seems greener on divergent pastures

let your love be as abundant as the arrows in cupid's quiver.
let our love know no bounds of time and distance,
surviving against all odds, against all resistance.

let your love be like the misty rains, coming softly, but flooding the river.
let our emotions though similar to paper, quite ordinary
be crafted into something beautiful with time and effort like origami.

let my love be the reason for the best in me, with your love being the trigger.
let love live in our hearts, being absolute,
regardless of prior hurt in heart led pursuits.