In the style of John Martyn, songwriter

You speak but I know
It's just some cliche to mouth
As your truth trickles from my eyes

I wish we could wash mourning away
To dissolve on a rushing tide, and
Hear the sound of the rushing sea
As it conquers and divides

Look inside your own mind, 'cause
You are the lining for mine as you
Roam the corridors round and round
Leaving echoes of our love behind

I wish I could change ignorance to light
But we've already burned out
Like stars burning too long and too bright
So, just lay down your sword

'Cause I'm already too tired to fight
Then you can have what's left
From the spoils of my mind

You choose the vehicle,
You choose the road.

Can you really complain

As you go tearing down
An interstate headed for where?

Long life equals a safe drive.

Many more roads, lanes, and highways
There are to travel, my friend.

Slow down and cruise.

Turn up the music, put on some Blues.
Listen and just groove.

It's a long journey, friend,
If you're smart.  Luck has little to do with it.

As "they" say, "Enjoy the ride!"

You choose the vehicle,
You choose the road.

Can you really complain

As you go tearing down
An interstate headed for where?

Long life equals a safe drive.

Twisted together an intertwined weave
Encircle, enfold, stretch to move in a sinuous manner

Coils support meandering threads, two twined in interlacing part
Interwoven and embracing curls cleave unto themselves

You are part of me

Metamorphosis of all things
Is waiting to be discovered

It is no mystery

You are alive inside
See it with your own eyes

It is no mystery

The time has arrived, yet
In time you will find it was always here

It is no mystery

With the absence of fear
Go be the warrior of dreamers who fight

It is no mystery

You will get it right if you continue to try
That time has arrived for you to bloom

Metamorphosis is no mystery

Until the cycle
Of co-dependencies is broken,
It will always be like that.
But, keep doing the work,
For you can arrive at a place
Where love no longer hurts.

"I'm not much of a poet," he said,
As he broke my heart with his words
On the pages that I read.