Thursday, September 8, 2011

Vita Post Mortem

In the middle of the  whispering sentinels stands a man not yet born, there alights in the shadows a hint of glory to be found.

Shudders of fear as the visionary chants in the darkness, singing the soliloquies meant to hide, meant to reveal what is thought.

My night has fallen, my soul is in torment, I cannot face what I don't understand

So the child shouts into the wind, no one seems to hear, the silence is deafening, darkness abounds

Oh golden sunshine, heal this broken heart, make man out of this clay, make light out of this darkness

Reveal the hidden crevices where the chimera is kept

Grasp firmly the branch, feel deeply the root for here it is safe to be alive.

Night has fallen, the day brings new light where the socks don't makes sense and the cents don't add up

Struggle, and nip at the scarcity, nip at it and work for the school holds no answers, heartfelt songs hold no secrets, or so they seem

Tears fall in a discretionary way in snippets of time warps which seem never ending

Ask and ye shall receive, the hero doubts and then recoils


What recompense, what answers have been given and the lines don't add up

The lines are too long here, the books are so thick

Questions lay heavy in the air

Darkness falls again and again

Light! Send light! Send recourse! Send happiness!

All the threads that bind us together are unseen


An illusion


Through pain of others imperfections


Yet your voice is still heard

Though night and day fall, confusion and light, in truth all hearts are one

The child is man

Death becomes life

Clay becomes flesh when awoken by a spark