A drunken god has
spoke you into existence
A stolen diary that told you,
it’s a sin to return this body
even if its weak bones
couldn’t carry the weight
of your heavy heart

I know I can speak myself out of it
With a blade in my hand
standing on the edge of the stage,
I’ll wait for the Almighty to sober up
and watch me steal his role

After twenty years of rehearsal
I’ll play god,
lights will go off,
and curtains will close

Your followers will clap in awe
at my convincing performance

As I bow before them
As I fall before you

i miss the nights

the moon was bright

enough to light your face.

where stars would fail

to compete with your eyes.

but it was comforting

to watch them try.

the summer’s great lizard hides
under a rock,

the summer sings of ending days, of
lonely horizons and crystal seas,

we smoulder in the sunshine
where the clouds flow in their

drifting streams, their ridges like
colossal ledges on the mountains

of the world.

I rise to greet the dawn

distracting my heart

I take a sip of dark roast

and exhale

today I will

just breathe

Today I’ll ponder,
on these scars.
Tonight I’ll wish,
upon a star.

Tomorrow may bring,
another wound,
but wounds can heal,
if treated soon.

Yesterday,
I thought of death,
and felt the wind,
sigh with his breath.

Not today,
he whispered clear,
perhaps tomorrow,
but do not fear.

In the end,
he comes to all.
The weak, the strong,
the big and small.

He’s timeless and constant,
Death’s always “been”,
and he has no pity,
foe or friend.

He’ll lead me on,
to the unknown,
giving me the thing,
he can never own.

So I will not fear him,
and I shall not fret.
For tomorrow,
has not happened yet.