Time will curve and convalesce into a being I know less than tears that drop and fall along the thorns of spring's new roses.
We came up from the land of sun, the diamonds in the withered rough and dying things that bluff the green grass blanketing their front lawns.
Time has lied and tied me down now I'm a sad old ****** up clown who uses jokes to hop around the reasons I'm unhappy.
And people do not understand, I dont mean all the jabs I land and how I'm trying to turn this ****** hand to something golden. And I'm a ****** up person on in the long road to enlightenment. And I'm a child deep inside but all I do is fight with it.

I'm
Knocking, knocking
Solo walking
Trying hard to find my flock
And things are different
When alone
Been spending too much
Time at home
Can you hear me outside people?
Is my voice too small and feeble?
Too quiet on your locked up doors?
Or is it that I'm not of yours?
That I won't fit
Under your steeple
And to you I'm the one
Who's bitter and evil?
I don't understand
Maybe I should go
Back to my knocking and walking alone

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Druid is Derwydd
in our tongue
the Welsh of my fathers

Our land is called Cymru
and we have thrived here
since ancient times

We live by our cattle
first
our hearts and families
second
and our crops a poor third

We are taught that
a mist descended on our land
in the before times
and cleansed the earth of life

And that a new people came
our people
and brought with them
cattle
all of the trades
and a gift for song

We were called Celts
but now we are proudly
Welsh
the dragon is our badge
and red war our way of life

The Derwydd
are our guides
they follow the stars
know the mystic tides
teach our young
and ease our old
into the afterworld

Never cross a Druid
they say
or feel your tongue
curl into burnt leather
in your mouth

Please a Druid
and luck will
lay by your side

I am called Caedmon
wise warrior
son of Lhur
born in the shade
of a great oak

I was taught all of the high arts
poetry
music
and war

If ever you travel
through our fortress-locked land
you will be welcome
at my hearth

Come
bring your sweet pipes
and play
bare your sword arm
and raid with us

When we return
cattle rich
then the feast will begin
then the bards will sing
and poetry will open your mind
to the harmonies of heaven.

As I wept and layed upon
The ashes of
My love among
The hardly dead
And hardly dying
Fields of flowers
Lost but trying
Out
The different ways
They say to make it
In this mess

Once Fate has closed
The blackened box
What can you do
To pick the lock?
What can you do
But grieve and rock?
While one way only
Moves the clock

When you see through stained glass eyes
With a mind that's full of shining light
The world just seems so vivid, bright, and oh so full of color.
But could you ever tell the girl,
With stained glass eyes that glint like pearls,
Of black and gray, the dull real world
When she has not succumbed to more?

Me and my scribes hands
Me and my eyes
Writing out truths
While spitting out lies
I cannot explain it
I might as well try
I feel like I'm falling
I know I could fly
I cannot contain
The things in my brain
I keep analyzing
Yet I don't know why
I act this way
When roads they change
I just keep on tripping
And stumbling by
Do the birds hear me as I can hear them?
Do the roots feel me and call me a friend?
Do the clouds roll?
And break wet and cold?
And wash away all of the dirt
Shrouding sense?
Does the sky cry when
Stars fall from the night?
Are things truly made
Of darkness and light?
We have to fall
To feel the call
From deep in our souls
Which brings us to life.