hard silhouettes carve the dawn sky,
slicing mercilessly through
brush strokes
of what is
to come.
muted flame.
ice & wonder.
another promise
made.
another hope delayed.
Category: What it is
moon sly mystic
cotton rise
over
midnight sky.
lost,
to the familiar
whisper
of time forgot.
lost,
to
dream
and flame, and
a thousand sunsets.
lost,
to the love
i lost in you.
Found,
in my darkness,
forged anew.
belated
beyond
the edges of this world
She rises
high
again.
lifted
by silent song;
lifted, by
our love.
and as
night's wonder
fades into her light,
magic grows
tantalizingly in might.
illusion fades and the darkness retreats
back
into dream,
and
desire.
swinging across raindrops
the gentle caress
of your muted voice
reflects the perfection
of me,
wrapped deep
within the wonder of you.
so
i turn
to kiss
your sky,
with the soft-est
lips,...
trembling,
in surety
of what could come.
and I feel
for your touch.
and,
for me, touching
you.
so
let us dance
like we used to,
when the world was young,
and we were free.
Strutter Step
juking & jiving
your damn way through, but
stickin'
to the script like
you were bred to do.
life plays you tight-
this ain't no zone D.
but there are so many ways
for us to get free.
no matter
how
you twist,
turn,
or fade away,
home waits for you,
right now,
right here.
so,
walk your way
and remember
to play YOUR game,
and we promise
to welcome
you home
once again.
natural beauty
come, and
let us warm
this hearth with
the remnants of our story,
humble in the glory
of what was never to be.
to be free
crashing vengeful
against the whole
of time,
History wails fierce,
and impotent.
dreams fall
so gentle
upon the future, waiting
for you.
return
he used,
from time-to-rhyme,
to drift,
soft and
content among
dreams long quenched-
the future on auto-replay.
his throat,
whetted with love's
enthused whisperings,
bears the rasp
& scratch of
desperation
thirsting for truth's succor.
so, again
he dives
deep,
down
into cobwebbed mysteries laced
with doubt,
glittering
with golden promise.
he returns to the beginning,
so that the future may finally end.
a spark is found,
again.
Genesis
oh, sorry,
you wasn’t ready,
was you?
to see
this son
trade your sweet
comforts
for Truth’s slippery
appeal.
a truth haunted by dreams
and swagger;
a truth plagued by magic
and wonder,
and rhythms
that ring
with the razz matazz,
of his story
Finally,
I see me…..
free…
from all of you.
yeah,
its just about time to burn this mother down.
Destined
a patient ringing
tugs
persistent,
and
dreams dry up
in a deluge of despair.
truth screams out
defiant lies
misinterpreted as
love.
and fear sits triumphant,
and calm,
as the wheel turns again.
theDeprevation 