All these years I have followed
footsteps hallowed songs
reverberations and penetrations
that tell me I belong
not to this weathered world
this wounded whisper
from the lips of love
of life the trips that are
worth the strife...that
bubbles up beneath the stream
bequeathing dreams
to children in awe... of the
thunder... of the call...
of remnants and stains of
eternitys claims of
the souls of all- the souls
are all thats left
here... treading light
in a world of fear
fastened by thoughts
hiding the sneer of
a mistaken mood... building
the bondage and loosing
the flood to cleanse the
lands and the hands
that offer the great food
which satiates
our distant claims
of ownership of this
deep game... where the
lonely ghost has let go
the reigns...