rest with me on
the rainbow

come with me
to the sun

i see you alone
by the window

waiting for us
to get young

we'll make love
in the meadow

burn everything
that hasn't come

i see you staring
into the shadows

waiting for one
of us to return

they sought me in whisper
in colours they could find

they painted of me a picture
of a man bitter and confined

they found me in winter
a song frozen in time

they caught me - a sliver
symphony of the mind

they bought me in silver
treasure of the divine

they divide me in scripture
then imprison me in science

they cast from me a river
of melancholy and wine

they ask of me a mirror
to show them they're blind

"Dig your claw-hands  into me"  said she..
'It is all so unbearable, you know"
Her chest,  ripped open..
such an ancient wound,  are those..

"Are those,  so slow to heal--
These ones   you've done to me..

And I.. I swear..  Dark..   looks like light
And Light,  so very dark

Strangely,  near you
         I feel the Spark

..From you, the Monster..
You know..  the one,  
         under my bed,

         Just waiting..
             waiting..

        waiting.

For me to slip..   to fall..
So you can what?  
        Crush my skull?

Grind me into  grist;
     Tho Unleavened..

     I will rise with you
     I now, know--

.. The dreaded  end
Is the beginning


    ..of all Beginnings."

Queen of spectral shadows hiding in her mirror
with a gossamer shawl coiled upon her nape.
Where sunbeams drape, she refuses to appear --
a hostage of somber fear not longing for escape.

The waterfall's frozen over,
the river no longer pours
when love cannot show her
the daylight anymore.

Mystic maiden in a labyrinth of graves
clinging to her orisons that go unheard.
The story's blurred by prolix waves --
we could paraphrase but the poets are lost for words.

The canopy's an illusion,
the firmament splits at the seams
when love feels like an intrusion
that stalks in her fortress of dreams.

Last night I closed my eyes and you came to me in the dark, just you in a room where you were surrounded by pitch black
Your face was blank, basically emotionless
as you stared back at me, it was like you were right in front of me and even when I opened my eyes your image was still fresh in my mind
No matter what I did I couldn’t make you go away
I didn’t feel scared of you but it just made me sad
Seeing you morph like my mind was remembering the details of your face and then you came into view the way I remember
As you,
with those eyes behind your glasses that they buried you in and that grey beanie that was on your head at your funeral, the one you wore to work so often, along with your other ball caps they removed from your desk
They told us we would feel so many ways for awhile after your loss
But no one mentioned you showing up in the dark

the bells peal
toneless
in the hollow place
of the night

and the moon is
the cold light
of tenuous dreams
seen through
the strained fabric of
a threadbare sky

shadows of midnight words
pulled long and thin
by the weight
of expectation
sit by the road
waiting for redemption
that never comes

pallid night flowers bloom
in hidden places
adorned by a feeble glow
without scent
in their ragged flesh

words whispered by
constrained throats
are consumed

devoured by the ravening silence
blasting down
from oblivion

Seems I've already been here before,
searching endlessly in a void
A man trapped by the eyes of those who still see a boy

I guess I'm still yet to grow

There's an echo bouncing off the wall; back and forth
Swinging by, and whispering a sweet lie;
it could be the monsters, or just the voices in my head

Either way,
none of those sounds playing,
leaves me feeling a little bit scared

I should say a prayer,
but I've preyed on so much precious time,
I'm only left chasing the few seconds I have left
While being stuck in between an acute happiness,
and all the feelings of being depressed

There isn't an angle to explain how loudly
I want to scream at people's faces
Describing the colours of their aura,
mostly in their displaying hatred

But then again,
it may come out a little racist

I've come to find myself writing love letters to the dark

And the result:

the ugliness of the morning
to see such a beauty, of my dark art

                       ...bite your tongue,
                          as there are no other words
                          to speak of this
  
Just quietly shut your mind,
and open your eyes

                             This is the unholy piece