I must dwell now with the children of Babylon and I
must bear witness as
their hearts grow callused and their minds twisted. But the words
I have
heard whispered on dark lonely highways and sung out from the endless
plain
of countless stages, they soothe my restless spirit. For the
words of truth
and love are indeed strong medicine. I live now blindly and upon
the hour
and I stretch out my tired arms to catch the dream in flight and when
the
silent reproach of those who know not of dreams or of dreamers begin
to close
in around me, yeah, I do not feel alone, I think of you. And
when the words
of these false prophets of this Babylonian hell begin to clutter up
my mind,
I pray to remember - I pray to know that there is a strong tribe of
those
that have known the truth for many moons and I fear tnot their silent
travels
for music is much stronger than lies. I open my heart now to
the songs of
the dead and humbly gather what other men spill. Forget me not
as I will not
forget you and remember the colors of open sky somewhat strangely more
than
blue.
Ashley "The Mad Poet"
Used with permission