...and the light fades

In my passing
what will they say
as they gather round
the death display
will they shed a tear
for this pallid face
or feign a moment
of silent grace
the final glances
the final sighs
the final light
on sleeping eyes
the coffin closed
the voices fade
i watch them walk
through sun and shade
back to their homes
back to their lives
where perhaps a piece of me survives

Savage Wind

style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" border="0" />
i'm dying here
this wretched place
where savage wind
cut cold my face
where clocks crass scream
brings hollow thought
eyes the mirror
blank and caught
in ancient battles
on ancient fields
heart and mind
wall that shields
all i want
all i plead
yet turn away
the burning need
iwant to touch
i want to reach
the shore that never hugs the beach
and left this soul
now spent and sad
longing for the dream it had
longing for the gentle smile
the night when i can sit a while
and look into another's eyes
and gaze the sun
now on the rise

The Fires of Ork

Dare i enter this darkness once again
listen to the whispers of the dead
taste the tears that drip unknown
into hell's rage
damn this blight
this cancer of the human soul
to which i return
unconsciously
unwittingly
pathetically unflinching
what evil did i inflict in a past life
that has sentenced me to this eternal nightmare
what spirit invades my thoughts
and pulls me deep
into this place of damnation
my soul captivated by the fires of ork
my heart blinded to the wonder of light

Addiction

How beautiful she is in fire's light
flames dance sparks off black marble eyes
lips red and dripping sighs
draw me to bosom's salted taste
we lay first locked in passion's moan
inferno of sweet lover's heat
she whispers her undying love
bites flesh
rakes nails along back's skin
i swim in swirling shadows
fall dizzy into the altered state
breathless in the bloodied rapture
the addiction that is she

Replicant

Words float to the surface
from sunken ships
they form like babies
on baby's lips
they flutter like wings
of a butterfly chip
that will burn a thousand years
i walk this madness
into the sun
i burn the sadness
now it is done
i hope to find you
while on the run
my lover who sheds no tears
strands collected
time to start
pump the blood that plays the part
of what was once a raging heart
now craves for what was lost

Replicant rises to face the day
memories surface then drift away
perhaps returning next time he lay
beneath the constant moon

The Dig

I am prey to the unyielding sun
Here in this open field
Void of shade
Holding precious pieces
Untouched for one hundred and forty years
Two hundred acres of Virginia farmland
Beneath my feet
Where strong men screamed
Where suffering defied description
And the soil looked as if it had rained blood

A soldier rips the Eagle breastplate
From his chest
And throws it to the ground
Where I am standing
Here in the sweltering heat
Of a calm June afternoon
I pull it from it's resting place
No longer shining
One hundred and forty years removed from the pounding heart
Beneath it

Lost in VanGogh

In shallow pools of reflected thought
A child's face,
Sad and transparent,
Floats above a wheatfield,
Thick in bright yellow
Amidst a flock of still crow.
A shadow dressed in tattered pants
And a paint-stained shirt
Brings a smile of recognition
To this lost child's face,
Then fades with a sudden gust of wind.
The crow take flight,
The wheat sway into consciousness;
Our hearts numb with the beauty of his pain.

Conscious Breath

Forged in rolling seas of dreams
The mystic well resides.
Dancing thoughts ride torrent streams
Where imagination hides.
Frozen skies and neon clouds
Carry words in crystal rain.
Faces wearing waves like shrouds
Swallow wayward ships of pain.
Home to endless echoes,
One feeble twisted howl.
Eyes shift under sweating lids,
Satan's breath wreaks foul.
Playground to these hollow hearts
Of Angels wandering lost.
Trade your soul for wicked wants
And Heaven be the cost.
I walk outside my lucid skin,
My waking thoughts return.
I feel the sting of evil's tongue,
The conscious breath does burn.

I Will Choose

Lips move silent to treated voice,
Technically altered in a vacant room.
Smiling clueless to clueless drones,
Their thoughts suppressed since Mother's womb.
Manufactured superstars,
Dressed and fed by faceless greed.
Their lives a myth, a stagnant dream
Without a truth on which to feed.
Resist with me this vacuous realm,
Lifeless words and endless trite.
Follow closer to the heart
On vapor trails of tear's twilight.