This is the reason I do what I do… A rhyme, a song in shades of blue. Connections made to a million ties… The longing stare of a million eye… Peering out from the darkness, sou…
Can I write you? Can I slip into your eyes in search of words to describe? May I move as a soft caress upon your skin,
I hate how I feel although common it seems, having been once again what I swore I’d not be. Yes, despite all the talks
The petal of a rose once fell then drifted slowly through the tr… Upon the wind it tumbled long until it drifted up to me. At first, I saw no value there
When all the leaves fall from the… what does it mean to you and me? Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be as now we reach the end. Is there some place we didn’t go?
Will Heaven help me through this… will it be there in my need? How much is mine to do alone? At which point should I plead? Is it there when my head is down
It seems evil flourishes time afte… Men follow cycles of hate, greed a… mixed in with apathy, jealously, f… I’ve wondered the cause but it’s r… For the war rages on betwixt Sata…
When forever finally comes to town… when it stands outside to knock up… I’ll hide inside, not make a sound… get on the ground, lay in the dark… And if forever’s not deterred, no…
There are a lot of mysteries, anom… things that seem to have no explan… One of these (above the rest) that… is how the foolish crowd is made o… from being foolish on their own. Y…
Even as the night has drifted softly upon me distilling its emptiness. So also has your memory in silence
Living every day, wondering why I… never really knowing why I’m here. Singing every song, always going w… feeling like I always live in fear… Hating what I see, wanting more t…
Pretend not to notice. Pretend you don’t see. Protect at all cost your illusions of me. Don’t read what I write
It doesn’t matter how the sun sets… nor how the clear streams flow. There is no joy in waves of grain or brilliant fields of snow. This world in all its glory
Twas an ordinary scene on an ordin… she an ordinary woman on her ordin… Doing work of little consequence,… Could she have known that someday… For as she went to fill her pot a…
What is the point of going on, is there something left to find? Too many days of rise and fall have left me far behind. And what’s to gain in trying to fe…