There is a love, that doesn't know a boundary,
it's unconditional and given free;
no limits to its everlasting arms,
security and comfort just for me.


There is a peace that passes understanding,
a quietness that has no name;
you give your burden up to Him,
He'll take away the awful pain.

There is a blessing, one can never measure,
it's like a fountain from on high;
it's a richness money can't obtain,
we should never pass that blessing by.

There is a joy, that fills the mind and heart,
that brings sweet solace to the soul;
a happiness that's a constant  pleasure,
it will fill you up more than you know.

There is a love, that flows just as a river,
winding strong and gently to the sea;
serene and calm, it lies there, waiting,
waiting patiently, for you and me.

flawed to near insanity
but long as you could hold down a job then its alright
isn't that a wise policy she asked
i'm not so sure
watching the clowns strut their stuff
in the midnight sun
they are reckless to be certain but self aware to a fault
just makes it all the more bizarre
watch em go at it with each other over the simplest thing
its no way to live
you can vouch for the living as long as you haven't died
and this madness is just shy of being in a pine box
so darling lets get outa this crazy place
get away from the thinking
that you gotta be like everybody else
get away from the plastic hippie rat-race
roll down the easy highway
find us some sweet sunshine to breath in
find us a better life to be

Ink soaked
in blood
Dripping,
from burning hands

And for a moment
this hearts breath
was captured
by the flick of a pen

And for a moment
there was no me,
only the flames
that bled through the night

Now a question remains:
"Will my heart stop bleeding when my ink runs dry?"

**Maybe for a moment.

I haven't many tears to shed,
to those who spoil our earth;
they've made their sinful bed,
cursed their own sweet birth.

Polluters of the world are they,
who one day will be down;
they mar the fields of play,
and destroy the ground.

**** the land, against her will,
with garbage and with scorn;
with pride, they slowly ****,
where flowers once were born.

The landscapes now are bare,
where once the hills grew tall;
the developers don't care,
as they watch the big trees fall.

I haven't many tears to shed,
for those that hurt the land;
they should be saving it instead,
and take a moral stand.