There is a road of shattered dreams,
Whose wailing winds all weep aloud,
Of those souls that walked that road,
And now lie below its cracked ground:
No tales to tell, no stories or laughter,
Nothing but the empty visage of dirt—
Why some choose that road is a mystery,
When all that walk down it are hurt.
There is a black sea below us all,
Whose dark waters boil with hate;
Gnashing waves that fuel our fall,
And make all our errors congregate,
In one single thought, one single word,
One memory we wish we could forget—
But we all drink deeply of those waters:
Time and time again we get soaking wet.
There is a room wreathed in shadows,
And filled with nothing but bitterness,
A creaking chair that rocks with loss,
And a cracked mirror that no images miss…
No one ever enters that room or calls,
No one drops by to comfort its space—
Only the emptiness is its companion,
And the bitterness of loss its only face.
There is a single black box of hearts,
The darkest of dark places where lie,
Your enemies, your secrets and…
All those things you have and will deny—
To walk ones path is not all of light,
For darkness is within all every soul,
And just as the day needs the night,
It is the acceptance that completes our whole. |
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I look at the sounds and sights of others lives,
Lives and loves:
These frictional moments that stretch
and wind
and meander
Towards an uncertain ocean of cohesive emptiness—
Yet filled with mundane meanings of the moments
and the times
that cannot hope to connect in nothing but beautifully ordered chaos
Separated by time
But merged by memories…
And interlaced by words capturing these sights and sounds of our lives. |
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I saw a sunset looking west,
As rooftops turned dark red,
Behind me only the darkest,
Of the lights the sky had bled…
I saw a sunrise looking east,
With fragile brilliance and light,
All around me the dark ceased,
While the sky’s soul took flight… |
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