...The air is thick
and the high singing whine
becomes the breath and
songs
not of suns and tomorrows
but of merchants selling the
drama
Hopeless is the fate of once
noble saints with
man made souls
The young is cold and the only
room of salvation
collapsed
under the burden
of greed
And yet
so many people dance
under dry clouds
and pray for rain
Perhaps there are reasons
but chances are
I will never
understand
why...

...I am
left to wonder
under the spirals of
sleeping heavens as I
listen to the sound
of desperate
men
crying
trying to be free
Blood flows backwards
as reasons become irrelevant
and the purpose of fire fades
with the last drop of
whiskey
Surreal as it may seem and I will
never know why
but I am
staring at the man who
denied
he ever
cared...

...Four years of
speechless moonlight and
two hours of drinking
the presence of whiskey
becomes a grain of sand
in the throat
Everything turns to regret
when all is forgotten but
the miracles of
her touch
Perhaps...
will forever be a prayer to the
stars
and thoughts of
"what could have been if..."
will remain as a
burden inside the chambers
of the heart
So many reasons to dream
but I have yet to find
a reason to
sleep...

...Sleep
but never fall for
the temptations of the hoax
Flowers may bloom
but the Devil will
reap the fruits
even before
you could plow
Black clouds isn't always hell
and ****** angels
need to cry to keep
the winds flowing
and remind you
of the hurt
Roses are not for the dead
and to cherish each step
leads to silence
that few has ever found
One light leads to the end
and the only thing needed is
to remember
what you came for
in the first
place...