When it's my time to go
do I go alone ?
Who's to guide me ?
Who's there to open the gate ?
Who's there to say welcome home ?

The days have been torn from the book
There's nothing between the covers
but that dubious look

No hands of man can reach me
No clock can measure
No wind will chill
No thoughts remain
No tears left unwashed
by rain

I will go to the music
I will crave the light
I will not fear
Nor lose sight

Between the day and dark
I will choose to follow
If I lose the way
It will be my sorrow

So let my hand go
Whisper something
beneath your breath
I will see you there
beyond the grip of death

Not all rivers
end up in the ocean–
doesn't make their journey
less worthy.

Not all love
ends up in a lover's arms–
doesn't make it any less
worthy.

I held your love
with the fingers of my heart
I tattooed the promise
to all my tomorrows
across my back to be carried for eternity
. . . where are you now ?

It takes forever for distant stars to burn my lips
There is no mercy found on the floorboards that walk across my kiss
. . . where are they now ?

Remember how the needles of time stitched the nights together ?
How easy does the fabric of love become unentwined
. . .  remember ?

Are we confined at all? Humanity lacking, where to find?
Stuck in this place, mind's grip, slow grind.
So much, myself, in this me-ness deep,
Like a lost limb, my beingness keeps.

Where's its place? This being's claim?
How's it all added up, this hollow game?
What if, truly, I'm less than I am?
Not real at all, a nothing's sham.
No I, no me, just not to be, plain.
Then to be or not, that's the eventual pain.

A void, yeah, us, a freedom's jest,
Not to be, can be, formless, hard to digest.
A soul hunting "what does it mean?"
But we're all the same, it would seem.
Simple, less, just the normal mundane,
We lie, we gather, can't wait to explain.

Amidst the crowd she’s alone,
Amidst all hundreds of friends and others.
She’s alone. She sits by herself.
Amidst empty and worthless dialogues.

It’s as if she’s being overlooked.
It’s like as if she’s in silence cloud.
Her thoughts are quiet for all them.
She’s far away. She’s lost in the crowd.

She lives in her own world of dreams,
Without fictions, lies and falsehood.
Her footsteps are quiet for others as streams.
Nobody knows what'll be her remote.

And she lives in her tiny world.
Worries and fears are endless there.
It seems as if she’s attached in whole
To all her pain, which bites and bares.

I had an odd dream wherein there was the Love.
The Love that I had never met afore.
The Love where I drew in again, again.
The Love I’ve only heard or not before.

The Love for which the world is not enough.
The Love that makes me bite my lips in full.
The Love that is triumphally triumphed.
My so dreamlike Love and trully thankful.

My Love where is no dirt and falsehood.
The Love which has no other base than love...
But my dream’s passed and I’m left alone with
Alien, so ******, feather-brained Unlove.