If I close my eyes
maybe you can’t see me
and I won’t have to lie
here, still and silent -
on my side
of the great divide
that’s come between us -
the quiet nights
no longer dreaming
go on and on -
living, breathing
beating hearts, forgotten
seasons lost -
in distant canyons
we once walked
our paths entwined -
companions once
leaving shadows
aligned in the sand -
in the canyons
where we left our hand
prints on a wall -
side by side
you and I.

It showed on their face.

The rides were fun
but they were breathless.

From the cable car
the sky seemed not that far
and to the wind it was unfair
to have two men without much hair.

Rain had brought color to soft eyes
huddling and cuddling at free wills
but sought shelter these two guys
from the teen lovers' merry squeals.

They rushed to be in time for the first row
childishly enthralled by the 3D show
dipping the whole of their emotion
in the history of origin and evolution.

The day had been too soon done
when in the melted afternoon sun
the two forgot all the worries
in the romance of rediscoveries.

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i scream my silence
creeping at the door to the sound of sirens
but since you know my essence
the teeth can only bite my effervescence
my presence calls into  soul science
here i speak the foul to defiency
love in ramble to the noises

i kept coming for the least
the beast of rage keeps east
off the keeping like writs
i fought off myself
like gods bits of wood
i woke up dead dead mood

imagine its nothing sweet
the father that kept sweating
and lost a child bleeting
imagine its nothing sweet
the mother that kept off the labor pains
to keep the pain off a deadbeat donor
keeping his offspring intact

i met a mother off the streets
i imagined the day she comes
come to a shameless man
with little byself
with all she has is beast of burden

i met a father off the streets
working his sweet off
to bury the wreckage
to come home to an unfaithful woman
but still wooed by her moans
i kept the smoke

by the streets is strict
by the rift we still shoot
by the knowledge yet
single handling not yearning

Stormchaser, so they call me
but little do they know
I’m the freaking storm, itself
I breathe hurricanes
I spit tidal waves
my voice roars like a thunder
and the lightnings
are my excess prowess

I am a storm
but little do they know
what I’m capable of

off the morning
of all the mourning
i'm well with moaning
of the praises
off the dribble on my shoes
of all things possible with shoves
i'm there never to come back