As calm as a passing rainstorm,
As clear as a crystal glass in an empty dining hall,
It cuts through the monotony and drudgery of all struggles,
And echoes softly along close chambers,
Circling around pleasantly until memories begin to fade,
Should I be lucky enough to hear it again?

Affably awkward and as lovely as the starry sky,
Laughter dances along endless gentle hills leaving streaks of light,
Such that it seems almost choreographed,
Graceful in its own chaotic splendor.

So delightful it's almost spiteful in a cheery unique way,
It continues to resonate,
And never hesitates,
To enthrall me each day,
It's a mystery to me how that what can seem to be sarcasm,
Is actually a clever mask guarding sincerity,
Either way it's fair to say it's great,
And that you've got me hooked, okay? cool.

As I sit listless,
Alongside the river supreme,
Silent stars gently rise above me,
Kissing the clouds with reckless abandon,
I watch the light bleed and create individual paintings,
As if the heavens were but one giant brush,
Though guided by luck and not creativity,
It seems it doesn't matter either way.

All things are connecting,
Dissected by interchanging strings and correcting,
Paths that most others would not take,
That wakes and creates an empty covered-grounding,
This is what we dream of and must make.

A selfish soliloquy that was written in haste,
Left a bitter taste from the poor and hollow remarks it made,
But it spilled out in every direction anyway,
Until the world left a cloak and dagger in it's wake.

The sunshine blasts my eyes and I am startled by reflections,
Memories of the dreams that we shared that night,
Our children are the thoughts that now follow us,
The remnants of a dignified trip into our own minds,
Alongside the river supreme,
In the shadow of our collected consciousnesses.

I saw our worlds collide in your eyes,
Placed carefully behind the looking glass,
A chance encounter as you stare back pleasantly,
With a shy smile hanging delicately beneath,
Brown eyes that look so clever.

And as I learn more about you,
I'm left intrigued and wanting more,
Anxiously awaiting the next carefully crafted sentence,
You have become more interesting every day.

I suppose it's childish,
To see your name written in lights inside my mind,
A dazzling array of electricity and such lovely spectacle,
That does draw me in from the boardwalk of life,
But I would gladly pay the price of admission,
If only to have a chance to win your attention,
Which is surely anything but a game.

please be my distraction
and take me away from myself
grow wings that might carry us
you and i
away from the sunset and toward certain disaster

per chance these phantoms do chase
we must go faster and escape
our own hallowed grounds do wait
freedom must be so sweet to taste

i can't stress how important it is that we leave right now
we mustn't delay as beneath their cowls
do lurk the hearts of ghosts and beasts ugly, fowl
or are they mirrors of ourselves
hatred shelved and stored away
that which cannot see the light of day
for they are monsters we must contain

lest we can't and must fly
far far away
and become new people
though our hearts' gone astray
we haven't died yet and still have chance
so pray
we do find ourselves again
though now amongst shadows we must play
maybe one day we'll find the lighted way

If I could look at your picture
I'd be able to tell you about your eyes
And they way I knew they lit up a room
They are those that can sing without speaking.

If I could look at your picture
You'd quickly hear about your smile
That would eat menacing clouds on a sunny day
If they failed to bring rain and thunder
So sublime with its apprehensive disassociation
And subtle with its grace

If I could look at your picture
It'd be so easy to keep looking
Until stars move across the sky
And starlight hangs upon my windows ledge
As if it were there to shepherd me to sleep completely
Slumbering along the edges of a frame

Yet I cannot look at this picture
Stuck behind a locked door without a key
Among so many unrequited metaphors
I'm standing alone in a place of indecision
And the sheer uncertainty of not knowing if I should

It's something I've come to accept
Along with so many other things in this deceptive life
Because if I'm not meant to look at your picture
I can still hear your voice
And even if it isn't mine to cherish
I could be one of the few to have claimed I might've been able to

it sits upon a scaly throne
bones covered in gold and other precious ores
flowing out from its neck like so much plumage
trailing onto the floor and into pools of writhing dead
those that might attempt to flee its gaze

and oh what eyes it has
a plague of pulsing orbs that float lazily above its head
drinking in the wasteland as a vampire does blood
each one focusing on a different tragedy

one thousand mouths regurgitate infinite platitudes
such siren songs carry across the countryside
and into the ears of one that i love

they always float on air when they leave
but i am left grounded as if an anchor is tied to me

must i become the beast to pursue it?