The night holds terrifying things,
Shadows in shadows,
Sounds with no source,
Not knowing so much worse.
But the night has a beauty,
Found in the absence of colour,
Eyes drawn to different angles,
Different shapes,
Never noticed before,
Reflections never seen,
Except in moonlight,
Dotted with blurred stars.
There's something about stepping forward,
And not quite knowing,
Where your foot will fall,
Or if it will at all,
An excitement?
Fear, certainly, but enough,
Confidence to keep,
Walking through dark.

Chasing a feeling that doesn't exist in reality,
Only in some fantasy,
Some imagined world where things aren't quite perfect,
But they're close enough,
To feel as if it would be worth trying to achieve it,
As if reaching out wouldn't be pointless,
So close to an ideal that it no longer feels impossible,
And of course, the company,
Not perfect people, but right.
The kind of people you pretend to hate,
While loving every second.

Watch again the frames I know,
That take me back an age,
And still every word strikes a familiar bell,
And through its tone I recall
A time when i was different;
When i meant You over me.
A time when i would keep hidden
my thoughts and my fears and my words.
Back then i was not worthy
Of the thoughts in my own head,
Back then i wished i could stop me,
But i was stronger than the me i knew.
So as I sit here watching the same old movie,
Imagining how i would have felt,
I realise that that nostalgic feeling,
Is not just 'remember'
But how i became Me.

Why do my eyes not wish to rest?
At this fading hour,
This dying hour,
Why am I not longing for bed?
Now the hour is almost dead,
And yet still, my eyes protest,
Against abandoning their posts,
Though they have their orders,
They maintain their stubborn watch,
And the hour is slipping away,
Gently, but quickly,
The hour will not stay,
But my eyes will,
They will stay open as long as they can,
As long as willpower is stronger than
The power weakness holds over them.
Why won't you rest?
The hour is but a shadow now,
And now...
No trace,
But my eyes watch,
As the new hour begins.

Inspiration found,
In words once told,
To farmers and beggars,
Long long ago,
Whose lives were much different,
To the one that I've grown,
But they still needed telling,
What we need to know,
So in the words of a teacher,
In days of old,
We're still reaping fruit,
From the seeds that he sowed.

Shared celebration,
National pride,
A victory won on out behalf.
Before our hope had died.

A moment together,
With no real meaning,
But how much we cared,
How long we'd been dreaming.

But now it seems,
That tune is so rare,
No longer a reason,
To throw hands in the air.

But still we believe,
That one day we will,
Be singing those words,
And reliving that thrill.

As days grow long
I make my nights longer
Grabbing at every inch of pointless time

As skies turn blue
I hide inside
To keep away malicious eyes

As pressure fades
I stress myself
Filling my mind with unlikely goals

As night falls
I've failed again
So I sleep with reluctance once more

Run to home
My four walls of white
The comfort and freedom
Of emptiness.

Settle down
In my old wooden bed
Let the memories flow
Ideas fill me.

Write them down
Then close my eyes
And drift from my four walls
To boundless dreams

Go on, go up,
Our lives in your hands,
Carry our memories,
Our long-faded dreams,
Take them further,
Than we could climb alone.

Ascend then,
Without fear,
Be bold, be strong,
Despite the dark,
And the burden of our past,
We rest our hopes on you,
To preserve our lives,
Our history, our truth,
For generations hence.

Our warrior,
Our soldier,
Our mascot,
Our survivor.

Must I move?
Here I am safe, happy,
Surrounded by comforts,
No eyes watch me,
The shadows rest where I tell them,
And clothe me when I ask.

Here I bathe in simplicity,
In the arms of convenience,
Beyond the reach of fear,
Outside the influence of pressure,
Why would I leave?
Were it not for duty.

New and old,
They are my commands,
And they must be obeyed.

These words are not what they say,
Beneath their skin lies ****** truth,
Of twisted intent, forced subversion,
Encased in some meaningless shell.

These eyes are not what they seem,
Behind their lenses a world is seen,
With such contempt and such,
Attention to wicked detail.

These hands are not how they feel,
They have reached into souls,
And ripped them to shreds,
In an instant of barbaric honesty.

Demons live in angels,
None are free from dark,
Some can hide from light,
Demons are angels,
When the light
turns
off
.

Unwilling fraud,
******* in lies,
Told to protect myself,
Because the truth disgusts,
My repulsive mind,
Must be hidden,
As best I can.

Who would want a mind full of dirt?
When it could be cleaned with such such ease,
Only torture and force needed,
To wring out the unthinkable,
The untouchable -
How could I be so disturbed,
As to be unique?

Take out the 'dirt' then,
Leave only the 'pure',
And watch how I rot.

Thirteen to four: Losing score.
We were going to take the world by storm.
She was an angel living in hell -
How high she took me, how far I fell.

I have to blame someone, otherwise it's all my fault.

Everybody lies - no exceptions,
Everybody talks behind your back,
Everybody leaves you in the end with your foot in the trap.

Life may be strange, but life's unfair,
And I can't even breathe through the smoke in the air.
To many "Oh wells", not enough care.

Just take me through,
Take me with you,
To the darkest depths of a black circle on my wall.

Don't leave me here,
Surrounded by fear,
All I can do is draw one more black circle on my wall:
One more lie.

Let's go back in time.

Sometimes smiles come for no reason,
Sometimes tears fall and you don't know why,
Sometimes truth pours out too early,
Sometimes patience deserts for too long.

Somewhere mistakes that were made did not linger,
Somewhere decisions were taken with more care,
Somewhere honesty was taken in measure,
Somewhere thoughts calmed the beating of hearts.

Somehow nothing ever seems to matter,
Somehow losing never seems to hurt,
Somehow knowing it's hopeless is a reason,
To keep going.

So I become the air: constant but turbulent at times,
And I keep wings from falling limp to the ground,
Eagles can't fly forever,
But the air will not let them down.

Lonely in a sea of faces,
Lost when my path is clear,
Afraid of empty shadows,
Alive when no-one's here.

Broken by that which made me,
Brave when I've no belief,
Open when all doors are closed,
Obsessed with my relief.

Defeat knows only victory,
Life is all for death,
Battles are made to be lost,
But still I fight for every breath

Humming along to tranquility,
Its rhythms sending me to sleep,
Memories of a slower time,
A darker time tinged with love,
A softer time tinged with loss,
Seen now through misty glass,
Not quite as it was,
As it appeared or...
How it might have been

"I have information for you..."

The voice is clear,
Yet its meaning is not,
What does it know?
What can it tell me?

"..but I cannot give it to you..."

Of course,
An informer who will not inform,
But this is no war,
No obligation.

"...neither must know..."

Some unspoken law,
Governs its words,
Keeps it silent - or at least,
Silent enough.

"...my words would change things - things that must not.
Find out on your own, it is the only way."

Catching currents in the dark,
My vision focused only on that eye,
Within, I see she knows.

Her wings barely move,
Yet constantly I turn,
Which way?
The direction seems so meaningless,
Yet I see she knows.

So why?
Where does she take me?
How far and for what purpose?
So many questions:
As constant as the air rushing past my face,
But still no answers,
None but the pull of that eye,
Through which, she knows.

Beauty disturbed by foolish youth,
Who think themselves greater than their world,
Who disregard nature's ambiance,
For music made cheaply and sold high,
Now they leave, and life returns,
The thrill, excitement of stillness,
When so little contents to silence,
Simple quiet holds the beauty.

What could be a jewel, rolling on the water,
Gliding on the surface,
Unobstructed, no rock nor branch interferes,
No ripple adjusts its path.

The jewel is an orb,
At one with the silk of a soft stream.
It glistens, drifting in no hurry,
Calmly downstream, round a bend, behind the bank.
Gone.

A spider's web:
Invisible when the clouds come,
But when the golden streaks of light make their way,
Through some pathway of nature's design,
A pattern of perfect engineering,
Shows itself for a shy moment,
until it fades back to the safety of disguise.

How to describe the way the sun filters through leaves?
How it ripples like waves,
Like a dance of shades of green,
The patches of dark and light seep onto the
Cream-coloured page of this notebook,
And a perfect negative of sprawling branches,
Rests upon these words.

They scurry across a slender branch,
Dripping under their weight,
But only for a second,
For they are nimble,
And soon another branch stages their chase.

Their claws scratch at bark,
Frantic as they descend to the bank,
Muffled by the earth as two grey tails
disappear into the undergrowth,
And all that remains:
The simmering summer breeze.

Quiet lines define her face,
Soft edges - the limits of beauty.
Within those boundaries,
A whisper of perfection,
A hushed light.

Yet beyond her features,
She is strong,
A simple straightforward confidence,
Unquestionable, firm,
Yet somehow soft.

I tried, once again, to forget her,
To ignore the buzz in my chest,
To put her aside and walk alone,
But our paths cross again and again,
And I am no longer able to resist.

We bicker and tease,
And we've learnt where the line lies,
And how to cross it.
But somehow, we grew closer,
By falling apart.

Her smile, her laugh,
Pure joy melting across her lips,
My ears will never know,
My eyes will never see,
Brighter.

Unless our hands fit together,
And my smile joins hers

A glint on a car window makes me squint my eyes,
Those sharp spikes of light make my pupils hide,
Retreating from the brightness, to the inside they know,
My sight's afraid of summer, but my mind is aglow.

The days are long at last, the evenings pink and red,
The clouds, as if from cartoons, float above my head,
The vibrant flowers are shining - radiant as the sun,
And I am calm, I can breathe slowly, the gentlest season is begun.

In a double life, a double cross
is standard procedure.
Betrayal and no foresight
are expected, feared, ignored,
no second thought.

All I said before considered,
feelings mutilated -
pointless to even pause.
Haste over care or kindness,
Speed the only cause.

Where is truth?
Between one claim or another?

The raindrops in the air,
Feel like static on my skin,
Like broken pins and needles,
Finding their way in.

I can't stop struggling for air,
In the humid summer breeze,
My lips and lungs damp,
And forgetting how to breathe.

Choking on sunlight,
Strangled by the heat,
But drowned gently.

I have written of being lonely more times than I can count,
When I am still surrounded by my friends,
But there is a shadow behind me,
Longing to be replaced,
By a soft embrace,
And the colour of some dream's eyes.

I've drawn and I've imagined more days than I could know,
Of letting my heart fuse with another,
Of handing over my desires,
My time, my hope, my life,
To one, who'd share their own with me:
The colour of their dream's eyes.

So though I'm not alone,
And have loved and been loved before,
I still know what I'm missing,
And I can't stop wishing for it back,
So excuse me if I hold your gaze too long,
Looking for the right shade,
The colour of my dream's eyes.

Learning for so long,
Becoming mechanical,
But the rhythm dies.

I must miss the chaos,
Or the promise of surprise,
Or the perfect excuse to relax.
Why else would I feel so lost now I know where I'm going?
I wanted to be missing,
Searching,
Wandering with no goal,
But now all those mysteries I craved have been solved.
I know how to get there now,
I recognise each step,
Like a path I've walked before,
Not at home,
But maybe an early morning in Ireland,
Where we stayed for a while,
Where I used to wander,
Like remembering a picture,
But not quite sure when it was,
Each step feels like that.
Like a memory,
Not a journey.

Air devoid of feeling,
Stale discontent,
Flashes on the back of my eyelids,
Echoes in my head.

A song with no meaning,
Or none to be heard,
A fire in my belly,
But no passion, only burns.

Fear contained by anger,
Stress obscured by grief,
My heart and tongue are drying,
My tears are no relief.

They cannot dampen the pain,
Only add salt into the wound.

Rage.
The jaws open: A growl,
Painted with bright orange.
Breaths of thick soot,
Choking the sky,
Screaming from the ground,
Ripping wood to dust,
Splinters to ash.

There was such life in his eyes,
Such energy,
That far surpassed his body's limits.

So keen to speak,
To tell of all his years,
And to learn of new ones to come.

No fear of change crept into his mind,
Always looking forward,
Never "It was better in the old days" but rather "It was different".

A man led by a love of God,
Who led him to touch hearts,
And raise spirits.

And the finest mark of such a man,
That in memory we laughed before we cried.

All around is pulled tight,
Strings of panic interwoven,
Wrapped round each other,
Fibres ripping fibres,
Fraying until they break,
Releasing bolts of fury,
Charging the air,
So I can feel it in my skin,
And I can't help,
But close up and shake,
For the stress of those around.

Hell, or something close to it,
Or worse;
For they would have longed for the warmth of fire -
To feel more than the sodden stink of their boots
And the thunder of Howitzers in their bones.
But they knew the victory was coming.

Eight days, that would be enough.
Letting death fall
In the half-silence of creeping gas
And the unrelenting barrage of mortar fire
Raining like demonic hail upon the enemy.
They knew that victory was coming.

So they walked, that's all it would take -
A stroll to be heroes.
But all the waiting, enduring, lasting out
To climb up onto the crater-filled sludge,
Mown down in thousands,
And only then did they realise:
Victory was so much further away.

Compressed
Contorted
Into broken shapes
And pulled
Stretched
Strained
Into forms I hate
Twisted
Deformed
Beyond recognition
I am moulded with no care

I want to get angry, upset,
I want to shout at the world when no-one will hear me.
I want to scream in my head
and rip down the walls that keep me trapped here.
I want to mess up my makeup
and run through the night and let out tears and cries and breathless pleas.
I want to stand on the rooftops,
I want to curse the stars for always being the same.
I want to break my wrist falling down
and make it worse just to make a statement.
I want to let out my rage,
but I am too scared to be true,
So I'll simmer here and beat myself up instead.

My heart's begging to be broken,
For some love-tangled tragedy,
To rip me to shreds,
And for maybe an hour,
I want to care about nothing else.

I was longing for someone,
So I wrote her story in my head,
And songs on my guitar,
For a while she was my whole life,
But even she turned away.

And maybe that's what I wanted,
To feel the full cycle,
All the way from bliss to utter sorrow,
For it seems no part exists,
Without another.

I just want the world to go away.
I admit I am weak,
Not 'resilient' enough to cope,
I shouldn't have to cope,
I want to live and love,
And love to live,
But instead I just want it all to go,
Every sound,
Every scent,
The beauty that I crave,
That drives my pen,
I want it gone.
Every essence of this life,
Is hollow,
And echoes around my head,
I just want the world to go away.

Tears build up,
The walls grow higher,
A fortress sprawls,
Unassailable,
The rocks that formed its perimeter,
Choke my heart,
As they build higher,
Under no law from me,
No command,
They keep building,
And still I don't know why,
But I fight.

I bombard the construction,
Siege engines roll through my arteries,
Cracks appear,
But I feel no better,
I keep fighting,
Until those impenetrable walls
Fall,
And the tears have nowhere to go,
But to surge to the surface,
And I begin to cry,
And I still don't know why.

Is this the day I run out of
Good bad luck?
Keeping out of harm,
But driving myself close,
Is not healthy.
I know.
But it's the only way I know,
And all I know,
Is how to live in the blur,
In the no-man's land where life and death meet,
Not quite sure which side I'm on,
But always on the edge,
And always yearning to cross one way or,
The other.

The air is biting me,
With homely smells,
With too much comfort,
Like trying too hard to impress my friends,
The first time they come round to my house.

The night is tiring me,
But I'm fighting back,
For no apparent reason,
Like the rebellious teenage streak,
That I could never bring myself to have.

The chair is pushing me,,
Urging me to leave,
But I remain stubborn,
Like being told our love is over,
But clinging onto hope.

Internal conflict, they call it,
I call it a siege,
A staring contest decorated with cannonballs.

Two sides,
Uncompromising,
No negotiation, just fruitless patience.

Both reason and bargain,
But neither side is listening,
And in the end it comes down to the walls.

How well did each side,
Hide itself away?
And what will it take to bring them out?

Keep dodging the shots,
With your nimble comebacks,
Keep ducking and weaving,
Around the truth.
Keep staring ahead,
Never looking at the carnage,
You left behind.

Keep avoiding my eyes,
With your simple disguise,
Keep hiding yourself,
In your smile,
Keep falling back,
On that which you know,
Never changing.

Keep forcing my hand,
To deal a new hand,
Keep fixing the deck,
That I own,
Keep dodging the shots,
I keep firing at you,
Because I want you to win this war.

A child's scream,
But no child's lungs,
Produced the grating sound.

Fear is laced,
Upon the air,
And seeps into the ground.

Shots ring out,
And feet pound,
As mothers rush to their sons.

Explosions rip,
Their hearts in two,
Their lives the price for guns.

The symbols that I see,
They have no flow, no soul, no meaning,
Those lines don't lead to beauty,
Nor swirl to colour dance.

Where is the flavour?
The scent of their description is empty,
Shallow,
Senses sense no more.

No charm, no hints,
Not even flirting with art,
Just simple, dead symbols with no heart.

The chance, it's there!
Left! No, right!
But too late, the decision delayed,
And straight down the middle,
Denied. Again.
When will the luck break?
Can the bad run end?
A drought, everlasting,
Dry mouth, hungry,
Starving for the one hint,
And there again!
Another chance, charging for it,
Oh the taste! Satisfied at last.

A hesitation,
A confused look,
Indecision over what they thought was,
Binary.

A smile,
I'm sorry but,
Don't worry if you're not sure,
I'm glad.

"Some say love, it is a river"
How the tears flowed that night,
How the rain fell and wiped our cheeks,
How the wind caught our hair and blew in our faces,
How we cried.

"That drowns a tender reed"
How many fell that day,
How young, how old,
How free of fear until too late,
How quickly gone.

"Some say love, it is a razor"
How deep it cut so fast,
How much pain consumed us,
How the dark spilled into the streets,
How long will it last?

"That leaves your soul to bleed"
How to move on,
How none of us knew where to look,
How to smile again, or if we should,
How empty we were.

"Some say love, it is a hunger"
How it burned, the anger,
How the passion grew strong,
How a single raging desire filled us,
How it took over.

"An endless aching need"
How we stood together,
How we all dreamed and longed for a future,
How it is no longer a wish, but a necessity,
How it sits with us.

"I say love, it is a flower"
How as one we somehow felt better,
How those candles pierced the shadows,
How we joined hands and held tight,
How we wouldn't fall.

"And you its only seed"*
How the seeds were sown,
How their lives were lost,
How it must not happen again,
How death does not end them,
How one day those seeds will bloom,
And those flowers will not be laid by candles.

A hundred futures,
Laid out on the floor,
A million promises,
In a thousand pages,
Of far too many books,
And all a chance,
All a dream,
Nothing known,
Everything new,
Directions blur into one.