In youth's tender grasp, we danced, carefree,
Unaware of the wounds, the silent plea.
Hearts wounded, yet hoping to be set free,
Bound by a love that was never meant to be.

Too blind, too obstinate, we held on tight,
One spoke in hurt, the other in spite.
A painful dance, through day and night,
Yet one chose to stay, despite the fight.

Now, in the autumn of days long gone,
The scars remain, a lingering dawn.
Time's cruel hand, it marches on,
Leaving a love once bright, now drawn.

To understand the wounds, it took too long,
A love so right, yet gone so wrong.
Echoes of pain, a siren's song,
In the symphony of a love that's gone.

Do not rise gently into the dawning light.
Young bones should relish the pause before break of day.
Let your teenage bones embrace what remains of the night.
Rage, rage against the alarm of light.

awareness or
the lack thereof
there is a self,
regardless of
the stupid things
you wish to be
and all those masks you hide behind

a sens of self
is all there is
it’s not a gift
that you receive
it’s that,
the only thing there
is

that’s all you got
that’s all you are
enjoy and swim in it
till dawn

it’s more than life,
it’s cheating death
it simply is,

the sense of self.

A peaches dawn climbs
A deep-breathing dark blue sky:
Flowers, a warm breeze.

Dusk is a promise of Dawn
As long as Life is LORD
And night can be long
As it was once years ago
A day in many thousands
An utterly unworldly terror
Or briefly: Old to New Moon
Or Three Days and Nights
Evil prophesies and rejoices
At Dusk, Night without End
Indeed it shall be, a Shadow
Of Day, A Day without End