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Still the world will beautifully turn When the lights have gone And mankind, convenes with the dust All will carry on Plentiful and just Beyond, the rolling thunder of ourselves When the grids burn out And the humming along of our machines Die down Still the earth will turn For its tyrants, plotting in wait
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I’ve been silent for far too long In these forested hills of ease Now I must come alive Down through the parched white valleys To thrive as a man Through the stillness of the plains To earn, to grow, then slip idly by Somewhere At a low in myself I shall earn my keep Below…
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The truth swings by its broken neck A scream unheeded in the trees The tragedy we seldom speak It is gone in torches ablaze Swaying, with our fellow man’s ills In their misery, their madness These days the truth is scorned As it kills our darlings Troubling the worlds, We peacefully adore in our minds…
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There are hills of the harvested Where the hero or the villain crawls In the scowling, shadows of the fallen He crawls to his livelihood of death Of ammo belts, fields of fire And white-hot tracers That drum, wheeze and tear through the nights A devil, or an angel lies prone Hammered in place For…
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I’ve never been too cool, Just enough Only known in small doses And savored by a few I’ve never been, too good or too bad, Just enough For a few lonely hours of chatter Until dawn Around and around, I’m given With warm salutations As love, freely corrodes
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Too rattled to bear any burden To harbor a voice So gone with fatigue Still I plod along, through family affairs In the marching regalia Of a youth on the rise When the truth is downtrodden Flailing, For a sweet drag of mercy To fill its weary lungs
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With so little earned I retreat From the loveless labor of ink From the faces I’ve mindlessly scrawled Pulled back from disorder From the hellfire that torments And flares behind the eyes Pulled away from doubt From a migraine’s pulsating blast The fading trails of ink And the rusted out, trains of thought With so…
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I will be gone When the sounds and colors of the life I knew Come rushing right back I will take my leave When I’m surely myself When I learn that nothing, is worthy of fear Even if I have had All the time in the world And more.. To scrawl and to dream Of…
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