Neither the soul lies in wait or
My mind hangs by bloodied stakes
No not me is forced in restriction for
Through light comes a love which
Is neither clothed or naked but
Protected by the ones who live within it.

Through the apparitions of former
Ones, lying awake in the wake of history
Castle tops spin their stones weary from
The sun and all of its penetrating waves
Pedestrians on their kneels wailing for
A forgiveness they truly don't have to beg to give.

We walked through forests of mist and
Stones wet from the tears of ones who have lost
I nod toward the mountain where the fountain
Rests in a serenity of mysterious eternity where
Infinity dances alone with her bells and her brother
Hell whose hot to trot for inside he wishes he had
Never put up his hands and fought.

How we got to this world of foreign ways and
Mistaken miseries, I will never know, but the
Tired baby with all her maybes makes me wonder
If the dawn was made for her and her only.

These many people who wander through the streets,
Their faces shining but their souls beat,
Out loud I scream but no sound doth come from my mouth,
If I stay here much longer I don't think I will last a month,
For friends are shaking in their nil to none accounts and
The roads are being paved for the next with their hex
They wear with pride but they do not truly know where
High markings come from or where it future blow.

Hours sleep amongst the sands of time with pillows
Crafted from the mice of the coming millenium with
Their whiskers, their greying eyes and their jet black
Hair and inside they bear a weight which we can never
Know, it hangs on their necks like a child's red bow but
So we are christened by the highest of saintly prayers,
Whisked away to forgiveness, though few refuse to hear
The chimes of euphoric illusion, a shining diamond, a
Pool green as peacocks feather robes, nodding off for soon
We will all have to go.

Libraries hold the old shelves of thought of masteries
Gripping tight the leather and the cloth administered by
Their ministries, ordered by the highest sect. to break the
Mold, though too far and regress forward into a high
Revolution of solutions by chance of creating a medallion of
New toys for the nots to be curious about and later be shot
Admitted in the eyes of the clouds and the sun and all of nature
Piles of bone and skin and blood and elastic tendons we hold
True to the one attribute that is acute enough to carry home,
Though where exactly too, hope to see quite soon.