I'm so unique nobody could be me.
The words I say reflect what I see.
I know you; I know what you're thinking.
I see the light, but I don't know why it's shining.
Sometimes, I know, I get too upset
When wrestling with the puzzles that are in my head.
My heart could love, if not for the dread.
It's like a blade that's doing me a chining.
But I can't blame it on the rock-and roll,
It's the only thing that keeps me whole,
Lord knows, it's the only, only thing that's holy.
No you can't say I'm like the other guys,
I was living large before it was fashion wise.
You know, the angels treaded far behind me lightly.
The gossamer was endless and nestling to all it neared.
The tingling within the earth let usher forth a worthless beauty to every person of it's time; but which was to be unknowingly priceless to the lives yet to come.
And the prophet cried before the day he realized he was to die, the hour before he was to find...
The automatic writing happens when you give it up,
And you never even know the meaning til it comes to pass.
But divination is a gift, even as the gossamer blinds your eyes.
And the fiber dissolves into the nullity.
When then spasm has become as the tapered wind, there is left but nothing.
The first stanza has been written for decades and been used in several pieces I have written. The rest was written tonight, as I was staring into the mirror this morning to look a little deeper. Much is still a mystery. Who knows?