The seer walks on,
On into the darker shadows where
Love is not always love,
Hate is not always hate,
And the line of segregation
Is blurred by myriad emotions,
Screaming for a true voice.
And thought it was a cloud.
I saw a pretty girl
And thought that she was love.
The rose garden was a deathbed
The cliff above, a leap.
Its the real I dismiss,
The dreams I never leave.
Unlike most children I'm afraid of life.
I don't remember love but I do remember pain
I don't remember fun but I do remember screams.
I know that there were good times
And my soul's not full of hate.
I know that I was loved,
While I was slapped in the face.
She told me to scream into the mirror
While the tears rolled down my cheeks.
It is my first true memory
At the ripe old age of three.
I was getting somewhat older,
My mother returned to work.
She gave me to the sitter
When I was nearly four.
I wasn't used to this new stranger
So I cried and yelled for dad.
But my newest "friend" didn't like that
She thought that I was bad.
She locked me in a closet,
And I was so afraid
I didn't even know her
I cried myself to sleep.
I didn't trust anyone
So I kept my lips shut
But my brother saw it too
And he opened up his mouth.
It was the final time
He ever stood up for me
I know its in his heart
He just have different memory.
So there I was, all alone,
At the ripe old age of three.
What did you do?
Did you think teacher would approve?
The tip of your nose,
Did not follow the prose
And your eyes seemed a fixed state of blue.
The lesson was taught,
Yet you were distraught
In a land far away from school,
Where you bow for the pretties
And slay all the beasties
And laugh at the jeers of the fool.
The dreams don't end soon,
For you fly to the moon
Gath'ring the rocks you shall need.
You're off and in flight,
The schoolhouse in sight
Ready to pay teacher your heed.
She spots your profile,
At your thund'rous arrival
Her lips seem to perk at the sound.
Saunt'ring e'er near,
You cower in fear
Gripping your precious moon mound.
She asks for the setting
Of the hero's fine wedding
And a silence drifts over the room.
Her stare burns like fire
And you fin'lly respire
Your thoughts which tell you, "the moon!"
Another small grin,
Just 'bove her chin
Spreads 'cross the woman's face.
She's seen it before,
A key to life's door
But a horrendous student displaced!
She raps on your knuckles,
Amid smiles and chuckles
And demands you stay after the bell.
The time seems to fly
As you nervously sigh,
Dreaming of the tortures in hell.
The bell fin'lly rings
Your peers skip and sing,
And gather around for a game.
You move from your seat
To her with quick feet,
Eyes to the floor in shame.
"Little John Screw,
Did you think I'd approve
When all of your peers can see?
There are few who can learn
That from thoughts some discern
The purpose of life is to dream."
"But you must understand,
That many are quite bland
And can never imagine those tales!
But hold fast to your way!
And dream of a new day
When reality's the one that fails."
Have any voice as of now.
For their tiny reverberations have not reached
The wavelength by which our mouths communicate.
Yet despite their lacking size,
They move with a tenacity that knows no fault.
It knows no fear.
It knows no sin.
It knows no guilt.
All it knows is that the signal is on the other side.
All it knows is that it must go where it belongs.
It runs and is received with mindful patience.
Cognizant of its journey toward speech
Yet increasing in a manner that knows not eager.
This is soul-speak,
This is the foundation,
This is the beginning.
Our brilliant auras bleed into one.
I hold you close, nowhere to be
You bite your lip, and smile at me.
And as the sun, peaks o'er the shore
Its golden light, across the floor
You hold my hand, we watch the sea.
The perfect place, just you and me.