Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Honeysuckles

TRACES IN THE DARK

My eyes are closed,
my mouth is open
i smell the honeysuckles
while laying in the grass

i know the wilds well
the wetlands and the forests
they tell me all their secrets
in whispers, howls, and silence

the horror of the dark
is still around out here
no fire, no food, no shelter
and i am on the prowl

where everything has changed
and i am once again
the hunter, not the hunted
with danger very real

my talon is my pen
my vigor is the inkwell
with broad strokes through the night
i make this world my own

the danger of the night
makes demons of my passions
they hear the madman's wail,
but silence is my stanza






this is no way to live
when there is so much beauty
made clear from nature’s grace
to me, right here, right now.

in all those pretty things
that freed me from my troubles
i still find little reasons
to populate my nightmares

the traces of my genius
i lost so long ago
still guide me in the darkness
and lead me through The Void

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