burning sticks
a simple cycle,
back and forth i go
with the pitchfork
re-building the center

watching fire is timeless
the hours stretched as dali's clock
only the bright blaze
requires attention -
my comtemplation

in the shimmer
of heat's rising
i see a ghost
a figment of imagination
vanishing quickly
optical illusion of you

We've all survived
The explosions and the bullets
We've tread through numerous death grounds
Without a scratch or even a bruise
With our boots muddied and our faces wrinkled
We know the truth is that no one makes it out alive

Through the trenches and disease and moaning and screaming
The scars inevitably ingrained in our conscious
Beneath the surface as it is scratched to nothing
Wearing away and down until we say something
Or keep it inside as most of it stays hidden
There is no way for us to speak the total truth

We're given our own guns and bullets and bombs
But the choice to inflict that pain that's always on our minds
That choice is our choice for we can choose to just stand there
Taking the hits and bleeding out and waiting for it to end
But things are never easy and sometimes a choice isn't a choice
Sometimes things just pan out and we're in the middle before we know it

To lock and load and then take aim and close one eye
Setting our sights on whatever it is that catches our attention
Whether it be for good or for bad
Driven by sin or by the need to enlighten a certain someone
To make the most of a situation or to drown in the terrors
We stand, just the same, with that choice and that wall between comtemplation and action

Amongst the boxes, the cobwebs, the papers and the dust
I sit here alone taking time to adjust
The chapters of my life that I can't throw away
Good stories and bad trying to keep tears at bay

At this point in my life I'm so happy and alive
Yet the past it still haunts me and it's hard to derive
How far I have come and where I want to be
To take life by the horns and be happy and free

So much on my mind it whizzes round in my head
New love in my life, new career ahead
My boy also making decisions in his life
Sometimes it feels too much and it cuts like a knife

Then all of a sudden I sit and I smile
As I realise my world's not a mountain to climb
It's a series of little green hills that's all
That I climb with my loved ones who catch me when I fall