Candle light,
oh love
it burns within us,
roaring fires
heated from the core,
always.
Timber plenty
in our woods
hearth
worn and black,
but strong enough
to endure
many more winters.
Oh love,
our fire,
will not go out
anytime soon

One day
I will break
This pearl shell you' re hiding in
And I will discover brand new side of you
And you will see completely different side of yourself.
I will prove that you're a  pearl,
My precious.
My treasure.
„But I'm black“, you will say.
„Even better, darling,
even better.
It only means you're worth more than you think.“

Corruption ruled the County
And the rich man owned the town.
The citizens were desperate
for a solution to be found.
The Sheriff seized the ballot box
And shot a black man down.

Mister Cantrell and his minions
Wouldn’t pay the people heed.
They would stuff those ballot boxes
With the numbers they would need.
In Athens there were veterans
just returned from foreign war.
What went on in McMinn County
Wasn’t what they had bled for.

They got weapons from the armory
And they faced the sheriff down.
They blew the jail doors from outside
Bringing justice to the town.
No longer would the Cantrells
Hold the county in their fist.
The right to bear arms had prevailed
May it be ever thus.

There's a place in London,
The tourists never see.
A room containing monsters,
Kept under lock and key.

Each one is enormous,
And yet they mean no harm,
So long as we believe in them,
They keep the country calm...

Sparks fly
In the heat.

Repeated
Heavy blows
Carefully aimed.


Unseen
Beneath the surface
A change is taking place.

Slowly
But surely
Strength is increasing.

Until
Suddenly


She strikes back.
And kills him.

I want to live in the woods
Immersed deeply
In solitude and estrangement
From all who know my face and voice
A man, unknown
Even to those who once thought
They knew

I take comfort in time
And the nature by which it exists and operates
I'm in love with the idea
That the past knows it's place
And that the future is deaf, blind and dumb
I am the one who gives it everything
Sight, sound, speech
Life

While I can't
At this very moment
Give myself the gift
Of solitude
Of anonymity
I am not confused
I am not worried
I am past those hellish thoughts and hopes
I now just sit
In the bright lights
Throbbing red on the radar
Contemplating which
To grant it first
Which to focus on
Or if I should
Grant it anything

Oh four letter word, little four letter word

Why are you so much trouble?

You get inside us

Into the air we breathe

You are more infectious than the common cold

And as un-treatable as an addiction to oxygen

You are the easiest thing and most basic thing we look for,

and yet you are the hardest to find

Or are you?

Are you hard to find,

Or we blind?

Are you a disease, an addiction

Or are you the cure?

Are you inside us,

Or are we inside you?

Are you trouble,

Or are we?

Are you a feeling

Or the space between where we do things not because they are good for us

But because they are good for them

Him

Her

A feeling, or the space between

Or are you the thing that made us

That formed us

That made the world broken

Because we cannot experience love if we are not broken, not really

Love

Are you God?