The Forsaken



I mined my memories with no thought,
For my own safety, no harness or shield,
As I capered down the corridors to catch
What cowered in the catacombs of conscience.

Something cringed in the consciousness,
And as I stripped the valley of my morose mind,
(forsaking the raw materials and abusing myself,
By removing the ore of opportunities and,

Culling the capacity to choose).
All that was left in the darkness, the harshness,
Was a feral child, who will become oblivious
To pain and defiant in the face of oblivion.


Two Men Walking

Two men walking,
Friends they are of old,
Two men walking,
Tales and stories told,
In to the river,
Memories run like a stream,
Two men walking,
Out of the dream.

Two men walking,
Strange are the songs they sing,
Full of both joy and sorrow,
Mended heart but broken wing,
Frabjous but fractious,
With shadows, stalking,
Mile upon merry mile,
Two men walking.



My eyes wash over you,
A flight of fantasy rekindled
And quickly doused,
As I recall the dreams
That you caressed
And then crushed.
The sense of loathing,
Instilled in me,
With a rage that
Could humble heavens.
The loud silence
Booming emptily in my ears,
The ghost of lost kisses
Reminding me that my lips are dry.
But no one is listening,
And no one cares,
Though once I loved you.



I wander a land of shadows,
Chasing the morning, far from home,
A raven whispers to the moon,
Music is absent where I roam.
Night sees only heartache,
Dreams of the forgotten,
A mystery in the eyes of the wolf,
Heaven is begotten.

Shades of ash and charcoal,
Paint the evening sky,
I pursue the daylight
And fear the dark can not die.
Sorrow seeps through the trees,
A sap of misery,
Children used to believe in magic
But now that is history.