In the storm,
The darkness of sorrow,
As petulant winds threaten
And the thunder takes hold,
All shadows loom close.

no light, no angel on my shoulder,
no, just the devil caressing.

Hope dwindles.
Cringes in the darkest corner,
Dreaming of a deus ex machina,
The dawn of a new journey.

My melody faltered long ago,
Lost in the discordance of false society.

each day is a fragment of soul
some lopped, some gained,
one day i'll be again whole,
free, like a bird uncontained.

through the grey i sense the smile
through the dark i hear his cry
waiting for me all the while,
aye, until the day i die.

through the blisters, through the pain,
through the losses, through false gain,
for to find the worth of living,
just for giving, just forgiving.

Frozen.
like the strings of my heart.
Hard.
Like my outward countenance.

But beneath, the fish swim freely,
feelings no-one sees,
beyond the touchy-feely,
beneath the sword of Damocles.

Secular hustle of city streets,
neons cozen the weary,
flicker with promise, eternal nights,
fleeting moments to wake the dreary.

but 'neath the surface, there's no converse,
only echoes, leitmotif of isolation,
lost in labyrinth of sweet sensation,
loss of life in soul stagnation.

dry as a beggar's over-parched throat
as an over-burnt piece of blackened rye-toast
as the golden sand in Sahara roast
was the air o' the day of the black death-note

as the air crackled with the laughter of death
and claimed the millions as it left bereft
daughters of the earth their heart a-cleft
from the breath of the devil with the head of Macbeth

Houses, untenable, ditched searing memories,
Turned sarcophagi from life and its treasuries
Scorched skeletons of sagas and histories,
Of family feuds, celebrations and victories,
Of open secrets and whispered mysteries,

Years of toil blest by gold sunbeams,
The laughter of babes and the giggle of teens,
Now fractured windows and ash blackened beams,
Skeletal remains of life and its dreams.

In the hush of winter’s breath,
Where mountains sleep,
Stands a crest, silent,
Nestled in nature’s ice.

In white array, dawn whispers.
Lustre o' icicles reflect approaching morn,
The voice of the eagle soaring,
The song of the unheard sun,
Break forth in new excursion.

In gelid breath of winter's night,
Shadows chase a fading light,

Beneath grey moon,
the stars are still,
No warmth to break the biting chill,

Through frosty winds and icy rain,
In cloak of winter's harsh domain,
As landscape wraps in frozen frill,
Another victim in frigid ****,
A helpless world lies still,
In winter's grip.