Aware, this stand, this spinning step,
My less than charming epithet.
In plain sight, my heart at best.
Alive and weary, with all the rest.
The dream, the dream, this waking dream,
Nothing is quite as it seems.
An anchored heart, a feather in air,
The love, in love, the irreverent dare.
I know, I know, it's all so numb,
Soothe your breast with the soft hum,
Of dreams, of light, and memories lost,
A curse to know its true cost.
Was it you that said these words,
That fall from lips to be unheard?
To reveal your heart, your blistering soul,
And come to me, to assume its role.
A vibrant dance, with forked tongues,
And a crowding darkness to shade the Sun.
The decision to be, a crossroads at best,
Of life, or love, I do detest.
In truth, I come to choose the latter,
To hope, and wish, "if I had her"
All these things that could have been,
This dark that strives to be unseen.
On light or dark, good or evil, in reverence to Hamlet's "To be, or not to be'.