Home is a lazy day
With earphones on
Sometime in May
When rain has come

Home is a warm bed
And a soft, cozy blanket
A waking yawn at twelve
When morn and noon meet

Home is in the midst of friends
Talking boys or latest trends
Where there is no bad blood
Only love's abiding bond

Home is in my dreams
Buried in faraway things
Things I never had
And might never will

In a time of deep uncertainty

with my NuBlaccsoUl in ruins.

The kingfisher Ja bade me follow Creepstar

To the mystical place

In search of grace,

beyond sheer Pradip mountains

Where the clear crisp ink of fountain flows.

Here the saints of Ignatius

stop to quench their thirst.

The journey held danger

when I came upon a stranger

I became enchanted by the spells

of a mischievic Pixievic.

Spell bound I watched entranced

  the sheer dexterity of the Busbar dancer

Whereupon My poor dark soul

fell deep in a hole.

I was taken through the worst by Steven Langhorst

To arrive safely at the hallowed grounds of Newvango

Where now I see

the Paradise in me.