a little boy sits alone
waiting, for daddy to come home

you tell me
is the cost worth the fight

they tell me
this world is changing

the tide,
is turning

but all i can see
is hatred wearing a new mask

all we seek
is a reason to hate

something
to justify this fate

the boy still sits alone
waiting for daddy to come back home

his wait is lifelong
because daddy earned a medal in the war

a little bit of tin
and gold and brass

to help bury daddy in the old brown grass

they tell me
the tide is turning

but all i see are these walls

people turning strangers
hatred becomes just another commodity

everything is worth what it sells for
ideas are all just another merchandise
love is only meant for sacrifice

tell me why
why would i want to live this life

but yesterday i had a dream
of a world that wasn't so strange

its never too late
till the day you give up

they say
the tide is turning

lets pick up our brothers in arms
and walk down the shadows lands

light the path along the way
make sure, the tide is turning

break down these walls around us
make sure break the ones that surround us

the tide is turning
it surely is turning

the change is there to come
lets play our part
and make sure it comes

oh yeah, the tide
is turning

The legend of the Birthday Cake

There once was a man,
all wizened and old,
who came a drifting to town;


set down for shop,
and opened his pack,
selling legends for a crown.


I passed him by,
didn't look once back,
till I heard a weezing sound;


"Come 'ere my lad
and listen to the tale
ere the night falls down".


So this is the legend,
of the story of the tale,
of how the name day came to be:


"There once was a knight,
all fair and tall,
whose heart a lady had won;


and then came the night,
all dark and long,
when his heart she trampled on.


So traveled sir knight,
the lands too far,
hoping to end his curse;


but walk all he might,
there was never a night,
when the knights tale wasn't worse.


He lost his heart and slowly his soul,
till he decided to have a go,
at slaying great beasts and doing great deeds,
Oh anything that would swallow him whole.

Traipsing down the countryside,
he came up to an old inn door;


Knock he did and walked right in,
snorting like a boar.


I come to you,
o villagers damned,
like a beacon in the darkest night;


I come to you,
to save your souls,
for I, am the bravest knight.


The barkeep stood,
and polished his stool,
for the room was deathly still.


And then right there,
a child did come,
and challenged him to a test of his skill.


Come with me,
in the dark of the forest,
and slay this beast o yea.


Six heads spouts fire,
and mighty it stands,
but its weakness i say to thee.


And into his ear,
he whispered the secret,
of how to kill it for sure.


For all we know,
He told the knight,
of a special kind of lure.


so sir knight walks in
to the forest so dark
hoping to slay this beast

dreaming as he did
walking past shrubs
of a veritable feast

how grand will it be
when i walk back to town
hold its heads in my hands

and i am sure
to become the topic
of the songs of many a lands

deeper in the forest he walked
traipsing up and down
till finally he came, to a dark wood door
all fat, lovely and round

he knocked and he waited
he stood and he sated
his thirst from a brook not too far
which made a bustling sound

slowly a creak he heard
and surely before him he held
the door was open and out of it came
a little girl with hair all black yet bright

Who are you and what do you want
she screamed at the top of her lungs
it is not right to come barging in
to make fun of others plight

sir knight looked on
as the girl looked back
and a small tear he could see in her eyes

and then he knew
the dragon would wait
till he had set everything allright

tell me friend
how can i help
a child so innocent and sweet

she looked at him
all doe eyed and wild
jumping up and down

help me now
for a beast did steal
my cake and a plastic crown

sir knight sir knight
it was such a night
that i sat alone and dreamt

of eating my cake
for my nameday's sake
my hair all wildly unkempt

i live afar
from ,my home in the stars
and all my friend i do miss

but a cake is all i want
and the little plastic crown
and my nameday will be spent in bliss

sir knight went prancing by
prancing and jumping
without a pony in sight

he jumped and he sighed
and looked on high
oh looking to pick a fight

finally he came to another door frame
and wondered what it was with them

hey keep jumping out from out of sight
doors in every dark glen

(the legend of sir knight, the birthday girl and her birthday cake shall be continued later ... )



(and yes i haven't forgotten the little plastic crown either)

"Define her", he said.

It'd have been easier if he had just asked me why the stars shone so bright tonight.

I did wonder, why could I see stars in hell. I think this was hell, why else was i with her.

He looked me crossly in the eye like child who had just discovered a nasty little secret.

"Define her," he emphasised this time, rolling his fingers over the key around his neck. "Now". A threat was implied.

I wondered if I had an option. best not to take chances. So i did, or at least tried. How co you possibly define her. How can you define something you don't understand. But the lack of an option was resolution enough for me to venture forth.

"And", she said, "before you start, tell me of what she is, regale me with her legend. Lend me your mind so i may share the vision. breathe life into the lore that brought you here, tell me of this maiden of whom you spoke. Who is the cause and the key. Tell me, who she was." And you could see he was smiling though it would be impossible to figure out whether it was a smile of mirth or something else.

And thus i ventured.

"She is my sun and my stars, my light and the dark. When she spoke the clouds parted and I could see where it was that I was headed and when she cried the rains poured throughout the heaves and all of creation wilted. But like the wonder that is life she emerged from the dark cold night like a lily covered in morning dew. Shining in her simple innocence.

She changed me in many way, ways I saw and those that I didn't. Change isn't always good. My heart bled for her and because of her. She touched and ripped my heart and soul. She could not be mine and that was my destiny. This loss I couldn't bear and this life I didn't want. her pleasure in my demise burnt me with rage. Her smile was a torment for I knew it was destined for another. Every moment I saw her my mind would race and rip me apart from the inside. To this day I lived as such and today here I stand."

She plucked the key and motioned towards the door. There was screaming coming from inside. i sighed and moved on.

____________________________

"Define her", he said.

It'd have been easier if he had just asked me why the stars so bright tonight.

I did wonder, why could I see stars in heaven. I think this was heaven, why else was I with her.

He looked me crossly in the eye like child who had just discovered a nasty little secret.

"Define her," he emphasised this time, rolling his fingers over the key around his neck. "Please". The promise of a smile crept up her face.

I wondered if I had an option. How could I not talk about her. . So i did, or at least tried. How could you possibly define her. How can you define something you don't understand. But the lack of an option was resolution enough for me to venture forth.

"And", she said, "before you start, tell me of what she is, regale me with her legend. Lend me your mind so i may share the vision. breathe life into the lore that brought you here, tell me of this maiden of whom you spoke. Who is the cause and the key. Tell me, who she was." And you could see he was smiling though it would be impossible to figure out whether it was a smile of mirth or something else.

And thus i ventured.

"She is my sun and my stars, my light and the dark. When she spoke the clouds parted and I could see where it was that I was headed and when she cried the rains poured throughout the heaves and all of creation wilted. But like the wonder that is life she emerged from the dark cold night like a lily covered in morning dew. Shining in her simple innocence.

She changed me in many way, ways I saw and those that I didn't. Change isn't always bad you know. My heart bled for her and because of her. She touched my heat and soul. Alas she could not be mine and that was my destiny. This loss I couldn't bear and this life I didn't want. The option was simple. I had to love her, for to not was not the option that presented itself. My life was to become a temple to cherish the love she showed I could posses. Her pleasure was neough to shadow my demise. Her smile, at one time torment for I knew it was destined for another, was today the reason to venture forth and lead a life worthy of the love I had felt. She may not be mine but the love I felt was and it was enough to keep this simple man happy. I would meet someone else or maybe not, but love like this could not be wasted for even a moment. I cherished her and so my life. Every moment I saw her my mind would race and make me smile. To this day I lived as i lived and here I stand."

She plucked the key and motioned towards the door. I could see creep in from the other side. I looked back once and then moved on.

She cries when she sings,
But sometimes shell just swirl up and fly,
holding, waiting, wavering
then like a feather in flight
she'll whisper by
then shine like a dream
and even resound older dreams ...
she sings as she cries ...

i love it so i wondered why

Willoan (Continued)

And the dream of desire did Willoan dream. Once he sat, awake in the darkest hours of night, wondering what it was like to yearn. to yearn for a person, a thing and emotion. Wondering and not feeling. Only imagining what it would be like to feel the dark wind of desire upon his being .. until the day that he was cursed.

Walking by a glade he heard a tingle. A soft murmur he mistook for the wind at first. But soon his being was aware that this sensation was far more than any he had felt before. It was a shiver riding through his body, a sensation wilder and stronger than any he had ever felt. He moved through the glades like a being possessed. A man at his wits end, searching frantically for the essence that had ensnared his mind. Searching for the one who would set him free. For he knew it was more than a mere thing. It was more.
More than he had known and more than he could fathom.
He moved through the grass, dancing to the tunes of the winds till they led him to the deepest depth of the wilderness and revealed to him the knowledge they had for so long kept preserved. Waiting for him of pure mind. Waiting for a heart that could capture it, waiting for the beat that would match its passion, waiting for the soul that would stir at its calling. And He was here. Here to feel its majesty, here to respond to its call. The trees might now know to what they had called, the darkness did not know what it had enveloped, the birds did not know to what they sang, but He knew. For he was in love.
A dark message it certainly was, a road wrought with fear, passion and pain. One destined to send those of a weak heart running for the familiarity of loneliness, for the weariness of an existence devoid of love.
But Willoan was smitten. He knew the pain was but a risk, a price for a gift life had bestowed upon him. Love was his to call and her's to answer. Even if she was never his, his emotions could not be denied. They, for truth, were there, an absolute in no ones powers to deny. He may suffer, he may wilt in pain but now he knew of an existence far higher than any he could have have imagined. He wished for her but the existence of this love was more than enough to dignify his existence.
He was in love, and that is all that mattered.

Suppose your arm is numbed and then cut. You can see the hand crippled, your bones ragged ends jutting out .. your feet lie stained in small pools of blood you can see flies sitting on the heart of the wound ... little pieces of flesh falling down from the rotting ends.. but you simply don't feel the pain that you should be searing through what was once your arm.

Next imagine your sitting in the room next door but not numbed. You can see the little axe kept near the door that the man in the black mask will soon wield, but you do not know what he will do to you. Something is bound to happen, the gleam of the blade tells no lies. You could live, die or be crippled. But maybe tonight or tomorrow or some day when you just wake up from a sweet dream shouting as the pain rips you apart. But sometime later the pain will fade and you will be able to feel what is left of your body.

Which is worse?

Watching your friend get hurt or waiting to be hurt yourself.

I pray i never find out.

Sighing a melody that even i cant define

walking down a pathway that i wont tonight

its like a dream meets a nightmare

like a spirt floating down

a mystery of the obvious

pains of pleasure abound

when the mind is so numbed

that every pain seeps too deep

when you can feel your heart beating

but not the blood in your feet

when you sit down to swallow

the gulp of air you couldnt breathe

oh its the darkest of days

in the clearest of nights

dream, wont you dream

another terror for me

dream wont you dream

another mystery to be

when the pain is so sharp

that being numb is all you care

when the suffocating chimes

of the distant lands roar

all your mind is a sanctum

for all the beast in your head

when screaming is the only

thing that saves your mind

scream another dream for me

wont you scream again for me

Pain is an elixir as much as it is a poison.

Someday it will make you feel like your life has been the same drag for an eternity and the next it will make you fall in a new hell you never knew existed.

Its a pill you hate to swallow but life jostles it down your throat anyway.

Its a drug you want to quit but your not aware of a life without.

Its a sorrow at times too shallow to hide yet usually deep enough to hurt.

Its the darkness of the night that swallows you whole yet has a moon shining to make you think you can see your path.

Willoan

There lived a shy being called Willoan. Deep in the forests did he dwell. Alone, like the scattered wind that roams its kingdom with the company of many but alone still for none bides by his way for more than their calling.
So roamed the realms of the worlds our Willoan but after each of his journeys to his joyous little garden did he return. hidden deep in the woods, in the middle of a shallow pond he spent his days. Dreaming, of the stars that bejewel the night, whispering to the birds that brought him tidings of his merry worlds afar, leaning on the dark trees as they swayed with the mighty winds and let their leaves rustle when they glided softly by.
Alone in this majesty did he reside. Never in want of anything, never living with the fears of the day. He followed the eve into its descent for the night and the night back into tis climb for the dawn. He pranced in the meadows with the deers and swallows and lurked in the night with the wolves and their shadows. A life of tranquility was his, but still filled with the phatom of desires.
A phantom I say for he had only heard of this thing they called esire but enver had he known it in its truest sense. For all that he had ever imagined was his, he had wnadered the world afar from the shores of the north to the white mountains of the South. Alone and in company had he drifted, passing by the corridors of the woods and then by the riverside. He had seen what the world had to offer and in contenment did he survive. Desire to him was nothing more than the mist of a dream we wake up from but once awake its always a little shadow on the corners of our eyes, flirting with our senses, always slipping away the moment we bend out to touch it. So my friends, desire he had felt but knowing is altogether a different crime.

to be continued

To be lost and never found

To be lost and never found, to swim around and never drown.

To live by the night and die by the day, to fall in love and then fall back all over again.

Walking down the hall to the upstairs basement, or looking through the glass at the image of your shadow.

Lifes got you confused ,, like in a hazy and dreary dream, dont know where to go, dont know where you've been.

Keep returning where I've already been ....lost to be never found, always just turning around.

Drowning, if only to swim around.

A series of questions with answers in parables ..stories of the past meant just to steer your future away.

For my friend, 'Dont look into the blinding dark or ull end up burnt and blind,

dont loose your faith again .. for this time it might not be found.. may be lost and never found.