storm

sing the times

discordant silver threads

sing sublime

we'er yet alive, not dead

both sprite and wisp

embrace your plea

yet your singing gift

is come soliloquy

darkness is but balance hewn

'cross firmament and sky

just another veil that's strewn

across our far-flung eyes

compels more vigour in the glee

resistance to the stone

if spirit is to be set free

then we must fly for home

circles mark these earthen halls

whilst candle affords light

would this song transcended walls

e'en when our belief is slight

the sedentary take offence

when sojourners ascend

for some there is no recompense

for that which still portends

i hear the chorus of the lost

invoking circle songs

break the chain at any cost

it is here where you belong

a sigh, the sea, and then the sun

ideas morphing unto form

a torrent contained within one

as e'er becoming storm

fabricated space

patterns in the sky at night

as whispers come to be

fleetingly we know delight

the shape of you and me

like suns in alternating states

or moons that beam in turns

the seasons of the heart rotate

one freezes whilst the other burns

by now it's just too late to know

or even hope it's true

the faithless reap just what they sow

it's scarce as morning dew

clock hands scar the dreaming face

you will not let this be

instead of warmth we're fabricating space

as stars distinct from sea

for me all love is simple in design

leaves all else in wasted wake

but it's just a dreamers' paradigm

for those who weigh the give and take

balance, discord, and the ass

two of these, they know their place

the third evaporates on blades of grass

in morning sun and our fabricated space

would

distant beats upon the drum

we gather all this urge

for want of war, eternal come

where grace and truth converge

and truth, a taste we won't forget

still naked, bound, and gagged

bitter lines once crossed, regret

the grace from which we're dragged

into tumult like sad sinking suns

the storm clouds bleeding ever east

you think that you're the only one

who feels nothing in the least

indifference is as ever served

cacophonous choirs in soulless halls

sedated distance e're preserved

neither heart nor flesh to feel the fall

just the percussion of these pounding drums

artillery, or scratches at the failing doors

should undo the ghosts and unwanted ones

that everything we dreamed, and bled abhors

and yet somehow waking here we are

the world in all your seeking eyes

would our love could winged take us far

from what we and all our times contrived

another you

it's your grace there on dew, forever chasing lights, the morning taste of you, on planes as second sight, not e'er been here to heal, this living's wanting phase, in light i'm come to feel, scant hope for coming days, scratching at the lines again, 'twixt here and something far, no matter thoughts that e'er remain, you don't know who you are, away so clean amongst the veiled, not yet become a star, in kindly turns the solemn flail, perspective coming clear, affording substance spirit lifts, pale seekers drown in drear, allegiances forever drift, we're coming into light anew, faint figures fading fast, i'm craving but a taste of you, so free of dyes long cast...