Angelic choirs spring from the silence
Gravity comes from your presence
Shaking off my prudence
Sail towards my coast

Surely there is more to it than this
Trying not to fall into the abyss
The echo of an unmet kiss
Joy a passing ghost

Lonely island in a featureless sea
Unnoticed as you sailed passed me
Standing detached in the library
Dreaming of almost

This ain't home
but I'm here more than there.
Sitar sings in  the distance,
I just sit and stare
I sit and stare
I stare and sit
Failing to avoid being a misfit
My shoulders rise and my head sinks
Into too many clumsily mixed drinks
There just ain't any sunshine anymore
'Cept the lemon wheel next to the straw
Cheap margaritas and motels
In movies of private Hells
Foolish enthusiasm swells
The bells the bells the ******* BELLS.

Parched and lost on the wild moor
Every limb swollen and sore
This journey had taken its share of soul

Then from the east paradise strode
Rains fell and seed was sowed
Two animals sharing the same goal

Our love dried with the rising sun
I dug a deep and bridgeless canyon
A divide and mutual water hole
  
I watched as she poisoned our well
yet I drank and went straight to Hell
Her tearless eyes always in control

Cast back on that baron moor
Weaker but wiser than before
Only half of a wretched whole

Finally,
I'm comin' around

I've been gone a
long long
time

I'm coming around

I'm kicking back in

My eyes beginning
to
see again.

The
faded
hated
self
I've been -
the haze
of fog
without
within

The rolling
of
sleep,
sleep
never
really
very deep

But
I'm comin' around
I'm coming around

The girls
they
look
so good
again

It's been a month
of Sunday's
since I felt the power surge

Ready to
put
my party boots
on,
head to town
see
what
maybe can
be found

I'm comin' around

All those issues
are
dead and gone
I know, I know
there's
always
another
box of tissues

But
that's okay
I'm back to seeing the world
seeing it
some way
sometimes
even
my way

I'm comin' around
I'm coming around.

Sit there
Eyes shut and drift away
Gaze not at the falling sands
There is no upturning the hourglass
Besides...
What use is time without plans
What use are plans without time
Sit, enjoy the breeze and dancing grass'
Butterflies
Flutter and from flower to flower
unaware of their minute lifespan
Feeding from buttercups centuries old
Sit there
As your ancestors did and as your children will
focus not on the sand that has fallen
nor the sand yet to fall
instead, consider the beauty of infinities "hour" glass.

In the darkest hours of the night
The old house was filled with hush
Heavy rain splashed in moonlight
and a fox sheltered under a bush

Thunder clouds stalked overhead
Crashes and flashes of lightning
The old man sat upright in his bed
Each of his senses heightening

The wind groaned with mournful unrest
Thunder boomed like a kettle drum
Shadows loomed over the man so stressed
His eyes darting, his body numb

The brass door knocker rapped slowly
KNOCK ... KNOCK ... KNOCK
Fear suddenly gripped the old man wholly
Then rang the twelve chimes of the clock

As he began to chant "please leave me alone"
The door knocker rapped three more times
Electric shocks ran the length of his back bone
There was no escape from the clocks chimes

The portraits on the wall made their demand
He could not look into any of their eyes
Remorsefully he obeyed their command
Getting dressed to avoid his demise

The tide is out
I'm left on a lonely coast
foolishly dancing in a puddle
such an impatient host.