So he dreams and dreams and dreams of her,
And is awakened by the light,
In his heart he loves her so,
But only in the night,
The dawn of day reveals to him,
Out of reach and out of sight!
He awaits each evenings sunset,
To drift into her shore,
And once again be held by her,
Embraced and wanting more,
The tide begins to draw him in,
The surf begins to rise,
His only hope of having her,
Is when he's closed his eyes.

Lyrics and lullaby,
Escape me,
Melody and rhyme,
Are not mine,
Choirs and...umm...wait...I don't sing.

Oh no!
I have just been diagnosed,
With a case of Extreme Stupidity,
My doctor says its probably terminal,
But with advanced methods and invasive procedures,
My chances of survival,
Are, at best, hopeless,
With proper treatment,
And a well-balanced diet,
I should be able to overcome the side-effects of the medication and therapies afforded by the state-run institutions,
And return to a 'normal and happy stupidless life'
There is no family history of this disorder,
But ten-out-of-twelve succumb to it,
So he says,
As I try and do the math,
The manifestation of this illness becomes clear,
Ten of twelve is equal to...umm...let's see...if there were one hundred...divided by...umm...okay wait...say we had twelve...or no ten...hold on...let's round this up to the nearest number...what is thirteen..dividing it by eleven...when chances are...2:1...is that what he said? Oh ****! I am terminal...minus 1.

I want to write about her,
But she lives in other dimensions,
Beyond what I perceive,
She soars high above this plane,
Searching for prey to feed upon,
Occasionally,
She swoops down,
When voracious hunger demands,
To find sustenance in bewildered and beleaguered and lost lambs,
Bleating going unheard and unrecognized cries,
She carries them aloft,
Like the lammergeir,
Dropping their bones,
On the rocks below,
To crack and expose the marrow,
Of which she sustains herself,
A devil indeed from above,
Yet for her flight,
I am envious,
And willingly give into night.

Sun slipping through clouds of evening
Dampened car windows
Sleepy people startled by the faint clatter of metal on tracks
Quiet smells of Pop-tarts, coffee, and gasoline fill-ups
Talk that stems from the weariness of the night and the promise of the morning
Casual, mechanical kisses of goodbye
Morning... follows night, greets the new with rehearsals of old
Begins one more session of hope.

Wishful thinking was all it was
It was never anything more.
I tell myself to not look back,
But still there is the allure.

If I had just wished a little harder
My request made more sincere.
I would have everything I needed
All that I hold dear.

But wishing never makes it so
It only prolongs the pain.
For wishing is just only that
A plea to stop the rain.

Still is your heart,
Silent,
Between the beats,
Silent,
Feelings of love,
Silent,
Like your mind,
Silent,
As it retreats,
Silent,
Like the breath you hold,
Silent,
As you await my kiss,
Silent,
As your questions loom,
Silent,
As you press your fingers against my lips,
Silent.
Answers don't come,
Silence.

Tonight I saw Orion rise,
And chase the Pleiades across the sky,
The North star shone,
To give direction,
Vega offered introspection,
Ursa Major,
Too much to bear,
Gems of creation,
Everywhere,
Regulas rages in blazes of blue,
So beautiful now,
With the waxing moon,
The only star,
That will not shine,
Is the one,
I thought was mine,
But now you're in,
Anothers sky,
Why can't it be mine?