the question unasked waits for a voice 
to release it from the caged mind 
fear of truth penetrates 
like a barbed thorn of doubt 
embedded in the psyche 
remove it with rusted tweezers 
taking the risk of being killed 
by the spread of infection 

...or be paralyzed by it 


the song yet written waits for a melody 
yearning release through supple notes 
dread of doubt perpetuates 
like a jewelled dagger of truth 
encased in the bloodstream 
pushing further with hollowed palms 
risking death to find a meaning 
within these winds of direction 

...or be blown away by them 



........................................+.....+........................................



I used to fly to the highest heights 
lifted by words whispered on breezes 
I looked into the dream of tomorrow 
and gazed upon delicate stars of wishes 
I thought were real 


above the muted mists lay constellations 
that rise with every lingering breath 
looking down on yesterday's wonders 
that stare through the fragility of veil 
towards a horizon surreal 


contented I drifted there in that bliss 
oblivious to the storm clouds rolling in 
I didn't hear the thunder laughing at me 
deaf and blind by words 
I was the perfect target 
for the killing bolt 


serenity shatters as the lightning lingers 
shrouds of purple vision trusts betrayed 
and I couldn't see the blackened clouds 
blind and deaf by thoughts 
I made a perfect arrow 
for your lethal bow 


odd how it gets so quiet before a storm 
heartbeat reverberating in the chest 
everything so serene and quiet, peaceful 
it's hard to see that first one coming 


strange it seems after the rain has fallen 
blood flows throbbing within the veins 
nothing is calm nor is the heart at rest 
it's hard to face the end of your coming 


ripping through your misconcieved perceptions 
showing you the stones upon the path 
that look like a schitzophrenic hopscotch board 
that loops back upon itself 


mirrored mazes would be less decieving 
opening corridors to the ways between 
hard to see in hallucinogenic games of chess 
the moves cycle seemingly without reason 



........................................+.....+........................................



singing the song 
that will move me evermore 
discarding the riddle inside 
without fear of dissapointing 
trusting in the whispers that echo 
in a whirlwind of flow that sweep butterfly wings 
to a display of colored complexity 
that will highlight the shadow 

...be the relief for the burning scar 


speaking the query 
that will open the door 
setting need for truth 
over fear of disappointment 
hoping that in that one response 
the answer will unfold like dragonfly wings 
with stained glass magic 
will move across the soul 

...be the salve for the open wound