(Once upon a time…or Three years ago, yesterday…)

The stained.stale memories of an unwell reflection
If the gardener plays his role, his passion is unrenowned
When pain is only pose, laugh if you feel it
I feel my discretion pulled in separate directions

In fields of yellow flowers allergic to the prose
Meditative dissection of inner calamity
Breathe onto the seeds, fly away innocence
Now you gain, but you’ve lost
The very thing that makes you
Smile…

Across the glade, petrified in gossamer silk
Is the mutilated body of your confession
Lending an ear to silent.warped confusion
You have no sympathy towards your redeemer

A broad incision slices across the horizon
Blazoned with the names of your victims
Read like a page of butterfly calligraphy
Smiling as their wings are engulfed in flames

And slowly does this pen pour disparaging cuneiform
Painted over green shadowed eyelids
A blanket over troubling vicissitudes

(Lost in a fairy-tale of self-manufacture)

And would things change if I forced them?
Like clay in the palms of an unworthy creator
Becoming desiccated in the glare of your passion
The foundation crumbles when you sound your rage

In the last standing hourglass, we fight for balance
As the sands of time shift I experience discomfiture

You are like a golem…

Unthinking, uncaring, your actions are purposeless
Aspiring to be Nero, burning Rome, wreathed in glee
I cannot tell which cackles louder
The flames, or your laughter

Oh, enter darling, sheepskin wearing
Shedding personalities like a chameleon
The shoe won’t fit this time
I own a talisman against deception

(Happily ever after…)

The calendar pages fall, like leaves in autumn
Only the trees are not marked with X’s
Carpeting the floor with makeshift foliage
To jump in to and break my reminiscing

Where we stand to view the twilight
As the sun falls beneath the clouds
I put my arms around nothingness
A ghost of what could have been

(Epilogue)

Emerging from a blank cocoon of apathy
You test the new-found wings and find them lacking
There are only so many bridges you can burn
Before there is no path left to follow