Astride the bucking winds of time.
Steel-gloved hand aloft, a whistle shrill and gath'ring mercenary guides
Leads a nation to drink of fire wine
In the struggle to unravel something sacred.
Tempestuous tides
Wax and wane and pulse and brave
Without any thought of life
Where love's true ambition is left behind.
Crimson writing on a yellowed scroll
Aids the Fates as with knobby hands they unfurl
The writings to be thrust within a pyre lined with gold.
And we never know just where the blood line will show
In these lives so unpredictable and often cold.
This life, consumed by hunger and rage,
Turns full circle in the search for elusive warmth.
Novels line Death's graying wall,
Cob-webbed and desolate,
A name inscribed along the spine echoes an unending life,
But blankness meets the scrutinizing eye.
Turn another empty page and splatter it with the
Rouge of breathing aggression and pain.
We think we are free as the volumes of ancient lore are burning,
Burning, in the absence of knowing.
But something is wrong with such lives.
Can we move beyond the sanctity and travesty that
Colors every breath and kiss,
Taints every moment of loving bliss?
Carry me beyond.
Let me stand where my feet don't touch devouring sands.
Carry me beyond
To God's throne.
Angels, where have you gone,
When I need your arms?
Angels, where have you gone
When I need your wings?
Bloodshot vision knows
Truths we will not show
Through awkward smiles and parting blows
Of those who never remember consequences.
Zombified, glutton feeds on every last reserve we bury deep within time's grave.
A gauntlet raised sparks controversy's sizzling ire.
Amongst the grease and grey of smoke billowing from faceless corpses,
I wait to come the blade to quell these desires.
Please come to me.
Don't let me stand where love cannot breathe.
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