hair white as sheep's pure wool
clothes as white as snow
Timeless Immemorial
unwinds a cord so slow

through wormhole of space continuum
negotiates diamond drop
the ***** of Divine residuum
'gainst vacuous backstop

soft with tremour and trepidation
throbs elation of creation
unto realm of craz'd inanity
draconian place of inhumanity

enters Univocal Amity
with wraps of planets seven
to give voice to human sanity
to make earth a place of heaven

time passed by as no-one watched
none took note of passing years
till one day awoke man touched
by sweet music of the spheres

gradually the cogs move faster
breaking concrete bricks of darkness
sifting out the pure white plaster
from deep within the spiritual starkness

why do i shake as i go amongst others
like a leaf blown by the wind
a yacht on the waves that sways and shudders
a ship, without anchor, unpinned

others smile, at ease,
and i'm like dust in a breeze
******* in a corner where no-one can see
hide me behind a bush or a tree

i love people and want to embrace
speak to others with intellectual grace
but i'm different from others and don't seem to match
so i leave down the shutters and stay in my hatch

oh, my shell wants so much to be cracked
but the chick wants to stay put
while i need an answer to help me act
it's becoming increasingly moot

So this milquetoast will end his life
with nothing to show at all
because he never learnt to play the fife
at humanity's quirks and gall.

no-one heard his cries' lament,
knew the secret of his torment,
in the basement, in the shadows,
lying stretched where no-one goes

no-one witnessed the silent feeling
secret something that left him reeling
left him feeling violated
without friend. isolated.

it was the first but not the last,
start of descending spiral,
beginning of sorrowed past
stopped him fighting for survival

stopped him breathing G-d's pure air
stifled him with dark despair
saddled him with weight of care
broke his innocence, a sullied mare

no-one knows the harm that's done
by the bullies of the world
the cycle of self-harm begun
the stories that remain untold

from the domes of the Old City
from the red roofs of glinting sunshine
glinting scarlet as a ditty
penned by soul-sick to his shrine

through the doorways of the heavens
through the windows of the skies
through the firmaments of the sevens
up through seven stairs it flies

wet with years of yearning, crying,
drenched with tears of troubles, trying,
dank as dew in dawning daybreak
dripping tears from angels' wake

tears upon the shining sandstone
glistening in the Golden City
glistening tears of sighing soul,
glistening ink on whitened scroll

wet with the laughter of hot heart,
laughter soft as feathers flying,
soft as feathers on a dart
dart to heal a heart that's dying

up through the doorways of the skies
up through firmaments, up it flies
beating as a prayer from heart
torn asunder, torn apart