Can I know you?
What I see is a hand
that slams and scatters
dust, children of a world
left alone and battered.
Is this the life that you breathe?
or is it just my inferior logic?
This this would seem to me to be
your power play to take away
and intimidate with the flame-
Fire breather verses artless offender.
No contender could hope to withstand,
least the child you hold in your hand.
Ask, "Who do you say that I am?"
As the platform begins to turn
rolling over voices needing to be heard.
"Don't let us go down to the pit
where your fires of vengeance are lit
let me live.
Let me live.
How have I come to believe
that this is the fire you breathe?

I fight the heat!
If you breathe out life
I bleed out my frustration!
Immortalized
in these wounds of hatred.
it would seem to me
that this breath is a fire you've wasted.
And doesn't that just make us the same then?
I would look to the fire
to light up solemn spaces,
but it's behind the flame
that you've hidden your face and
the lie that I find:
that the fires refining.
But it just seems to me now
that the fire is dying,
demystifying.

And I can't sit with this,
surrounded by shadows of stranger faces
as your fire begins to dim.
I am left alone in the silent places

The Queen of heaven, she is a serpent
and the dust would be her home to reside
had I not so ardently reached out my
hand beneath her in order to arise
a spectral form from my sagacious snake.
A wraith, a shadow of what is divine-
a simple trick that fools a simple mind.
For from the dust she spoke in lofty terms
much beyond my scope of comprehension.
Half truths unquestioned are riddles affirmed
as wisdom. Deliberate ignorance
was my fall, and so her power affirmed.
Shall I now toil to flee from her
forevermore, a prison I have earned.

Wind beneath my wings
is not really wind at all,
It's ******* coffee

Teach me
how to see everything
extravagant, as it is.
Judging from where I am
only few could survive
your world-you've created
one way. I cannot find it alone.
Threatened by constant foes
hidden beyond my sight, though
every path, you know
leads through suffering
onto the final
redemption I cannot see.
Determined I follow you there.

Light shines,
shine your light on me?
Stars reflecting
brightly off the sea
in the night that is keeping me
and all of mankind who struggle
through the crashing waves silently.

Wind chimes
playing melodies
carry my life
in the subtle breeze
they are not the only ones that sing.
We join in a chorus of notes
Singing strong, though quietly.

And though words may not come tonight,
Tomorrow we will rise.
When hope seems to have lost its life,
we stand with the sun and rise.

We worship the lesser lights as kings.
Created gods, created deities?
Watch in wonder the life that they grow,
but upon them all was life bestowed.
So, before the Lord they also sing.

Fervent in their duel for authority,
for power must be won among these
charlatan god’s, and so they come and go.
We worship the lesser lights.

Man, holding little priority,
a subject, a slave to the god he feeds.
In life, laboring to please a shadow,
An afterthought created without hope.
We worship the lesser lights.

He slayed
countless hours
behind barred doors, a cell
putting to death
his beasts