.

A place of distance        
Where belief seems like make believe        
Reason finding no concrete purchase in alone        
There is no saying        
For whatever speech might be        
Doesn't change a thing        
Just dark muttering        
Forlorn        
As the weight upon the soul now borne        
The world, indifferent, has no cause to pause        
It knows no pain that naws        
I know the broken end of things        
The hollowness of truth that rings        
A blackness knelling        
The soot, the ash, the char of dreams        
Even seemingly small hoped for things        
The bobbins and bits        
Disembodied, lying abed - or sit      
Smoking cigarettes in the dark, faint glow        
Thin smoke lost in a drift with each blow        
The blowing smoke unremembered        
As the warmth tendered        
       
She danced autumn as others would the rise of the harvest moon        
Spirling between plenty and none, yet feasting, and laughing at ruin        
Neither maid nor crone, full ripe was she        
Who moved as if to darkness immune        
       
Sleeping, the only consolation of desolation's wright        
Once from this meager commission a dragon took flight        
Streaked, grey morn, drift of fog and scent of storm        
The clouds roil up, gathering black, hope shorn        
A wyrm in the old tongue, archaic. Nevertheless,        
Well scaled, dull gleamed, lean muscled with age and avarice        
Reeking ill, foul breathed, and cold blooded        
Spawn of beastial rutting        
A murder of crows circling, flocks to the feast        
From incessant cawing the serpent's hiss unsheathed        
       
Lusted for, as if for treasure        
The ravishing, the rifling, an object for the taking        
Having no value or measure        
Want or need        
Just use        
How does it feel to be used        
Darkness doesn't always flee the light        
Darkness that would lose you within the mists        
Beguiling, tempting with the delights of ruin        
The shared warmth before the burn        
Rage the fire from heart's pure spark        
His teeth spoke the thick hammer of nails upon your coffin        
A pounding to wake the dead, yet, still you dream        
Whispered desires hiss the caress of every curve        
Manhandled, clawed, bruised, and nail streak red        
Yet, you can't touch your destroyer        
The light in your eyes doesn't know the dream ender        
Never tasting the ashes of dawn, waking alone        
The day will come        
In him darkness lives        
Your dispoiler        
He would steal the very heart from you        
All your good, your desires and dreams        
Crushing them one by one        
Never telling you why their not enough        
Fool! They don't mean a thing        
When its all about him        
Any girl will spread or get down on her knees        
Work when a man won't work        
Carry the load he won't lift        
Until she can't        
Until she's broke        
Kiss the serpent one last time        
Take him in        
In some forlorn hope        
That you're woman enough        
That you mean enough        
Think        
Have you even pierced the livery of his armour        
The lies he weaves        
Even his lies tell lies        
There's no rent in his mail        
Then how can you scratch the surface of a heart that doesn't beat        
       
Is a castle worth the price        
Of sleeping in the dragon's lair        
       
Sometimes the outside looking in        
Is as blind as being on the inside looking out        
Yet I see you as the dawning of a thousand golden suns        
The promise of the dream        
Still remembered when you wake        
I believe, sometimes, to be touched, to be held        
Is sacred, is sacrament enough        
That nearness alone can whisper perfect love        
How I long to hear that voice        
To taste those words on your lips        
       
The moments, though, they slip away        
Sands in an hourglass, day by day        
       
If only those sands bore your touch        
Your kiss, our memories, and not just dreams        
Sometimes, the sun streams into darkened room        
To bath the wood warm with golden glow        
And turn the darkness that was into shadows soft        
And so my hopes live in you        
       
Spring greens as dogwoods bloom        
And azaleas, and the wildflowers I love        
Not all that's beautiful colors within the lines        
Watercolours bleed        
Life, to me, is art, not rule        
       
Streams lose winter's chill        
Come wade with me        
Let's play like children in the rain        
Puddle jumpers who make the biggest splash        
Let's dance        
Snatching joy in the simple things        
And simply live        
Be born again        
       
Launch on one last dream with me        
Casting off upon the unknown sea        
Seeking not but within our hearts to see        
The truth of what our live might be        
       
I need my solitude        
My long walks        
The forests and the fields        
And yet, I need a depth not had alone        
To dream another's dream too        
Not dream alone        
To find ties that bind        
Moments shared that breath like air        
       
I am no man of high regard        
Have no lofty, worldly mark        
I would be content to be a humble gardener        
To work wood with my hands        
To write, to paint and create        
And sever the world's unnecessary bonds        
As much as I could, for my own good        
Not a loner, but on my own terms        
Not rich, but having enough        
Reliable and self reliant        
       
I am no one so remarkable        
But you are to me        
       
Through the mists I see you where you are        
I see me, where I am, where I dream to be        
And see an us that may never be        
But I have dreamed of dragons and fair maidens        
And a solitary tender of the fields        
Who has no use for the things of the world        
       
Spring comes        
Change is stirring in the air        
I'm but a fool on a walk        
Who will follow the birdsong        
To see where it leads        
       
Every dragon has its George        
But I'm done with war