As in the tears light does escape in the darkest fear.
Pleading in silence yerning for the  departure of  my soon
lost  mind.

Why we we must travle a road only to see it's end.
The path unsure requires a steady broken soul.
My emptyness know great depth.

A game of  life  a promise of death.
Behind laughter pain does exist.
Another night escapes me one of many regrets.

The wind a companion the road a void of nights
gentle embrace.
Ive searched for a reason tangled in the traps of
agony's plessure cast dellusion.

A snow globe heart  awaits its fatal dance
with the floor.
In the arms of passion  we feel the wrath of
times  bitter  truth.

I am the clowns  washed clean face.
Ive serched for a depth.
To find a poets soul ive found not a trace.

I struggle to resist.
She drops the glass as it breaks apon a slab floor.
No longer the clown do I see.
One pull and tommorows painting will be erased.
From a spark of pure creation and a fatal destruction.

Into a night  a end of my choosing.
Maybe we knew the past was soon to be are end.
Heart's like all things bleeding easily betray.
For only clocks and urns apon the mantle were ment to stay.

In choosing this path it sets a page blank.
Allowing many to read that which  was never seen.
In darkness the mystery leaves little light.

So as we toast to a suicide.
The trigger is pulled.

A ****** up sesibility is matched
only by a cryptic verse.
As in chains we exist trapped in soul
lost within the mind.

Sunsets in red  oceans of  passions failure
no longer free   to the laugther trapped within
my head.

The soon to be  forgotten fade.
As in the depths we chase demons  of are own creation
shallow  in thought.
Washed in tommorows legend  and  dried
by reallty's ever changing truth.

How long have I waited now ?
How long must I wait ?.
You awoke this morning with the need to sing ,
the air in your tiny lungs burst forth and your only thought
the eggs you hatched .
I witnissed the cloud wither behind the sun ,
yet still you serched for food ax if my table was empty .
And so many rain clouds formed you feasted off bins of trash cans what ever came to mind ?
Did you never look for this bread and wine ?
Do you remember the hail stones how they stung against your face ,
you shivered in the wet lands without a smile I saw your face .
To gruel and trout you ate ,
and grissel when there was no meat ,
and sang as the rain drops fell on your tiny black beak .
Through Ashfords streets you sang above Costa coffee shops and church spires you perched .
Then on Sunday morn when my table was full ,
with other birds you ate like the feast of a dove ,
You chirped some happy chorus sung ,
then past my window,
you flew to the sun .