Tunnel of Stars

In the frozen air,
my shadow in another world.

Am I still beautiful, still strong, still wrong ?

Are you the dust on the roads,
in the sky,
in my eyes ?

Are you the blood in the sun,
the tears of the night, cold night ?

Are you free,
can you free me ?

Break in the flow,
anchor,
beautiful dream,
forlorn ember,
binding heart,
blinding light,
broken fight,
river,

will you sing me to sleep ?

For one day, they shall see me again.

I am everything.
Sullen and damp beneath an endless light.
I am drifting,
and a cold song cleanses the air,
carresses the violet sky.

I am everywhere,
and the empty night is alive,
a shadow of my endless journey,
a beacon on my endless path.
I am gone,
but the gutting, jabbing, stabbing, piercing, prodding, boundless pain remains,
a silhouette behind the light of my many undreamt dreams.

I am a tourniquet,
a pain to kill the pain,
a bitter to sweeten the bitterness,
a failure to justify the failure,
a force to move the force,
a light to darken the light,
a dream to wake the dreamer,
a song to sing the silence.

I am here,
and the darkness of the night in your hair is the song I sing.

I am the seed unsown,
the plant ungrown.
The sleeper who hears the wind in the wind.

Drapery sinks and
moonlight flows.
The silence thinks,
The silence knows.

Splinters

Bleak, bleak, wasteland,
you sorely miss the gardeners of your past.
Bleak, desolate island,
Spring shalt not come, spring shalt not come.

Scorch the plains, brothers.
And let us march though our feet are broken.
We always trudge on, don't we ?
With or without words

Take your toll and leave,
Thunderstorms pass.

We are the wind in the fractures.

Obscurity

Oh, watch these arrows fly
Through the unlit sky.
Questions you can't see,
The spearheads t'ward me.
Like when the thunder begs the rain,
And the happiness, the pain.
When sunsets fade illuminated paths,
And disguise your silent art.

Then I hear,
Oh ! Am I wrong ?

And I beg approval.
I am a beggar in plain clothes.
And a pauper of the shadows.
A citizen of trepidation,
A valorous fool.

Where the loss wins the blackest bitterness
And craves company,
In the crevisces of what I thought was mine.

Oh ! But in the night, we are all blind.
Without our arrows on fire.