I Wonder, A Rose

Often I wonder.
Can I hear you in that thunder?
Can I feel you in the rain,
Or is it all just in vain?

It's been so many years,
Since your voice was upon my ears.
I never will let go,
Of what I hardly came to know.

I miss you more than you'll ever know,
And I wish that you had been able to see me grow.
It really isn't easy to walk along these roads,
back hunched to ever solemn loads.

Although your pain was great,
Still my heart did not abate.
When you finally left me,
And at long last were free.

I used to wonder weather if I'd eaten all my food,
Or used words very much less crude.
If that would have made any difference at all,
At least till I heard your august call.

I don't know if its right,
But I wish it every night.
For its something that I lack,
And I'd gladly have you back.

For my mother, Febuary 10th 1996

Tempus Fugit

In silent awe gazing forth,
A single star pointed north.
Up upon the layered stairs.
Studying those heavenly affairs.

Rooms piled with papers high,
Crinkly, crackling, and quite dry.
Long did they keep,
Records held of crops to reap.

A mighty roar up in the sky,
A terrified mind wondered why.
And from this mind sprung a thought,
That in blood would its service be bought.

A river flowing giving life,
And fueling dangerous strife.
Through a mighty course it run,
Human work it will make undone.

Sanctified with each new thrust,
Engrossed in that primal lust.
Never caring for what is ahead,
Just right there in that bed.

The world as it was back then,
And could well be again.
Different names and places,
A changing mask of faces.

Wagons giving way to cars,
Bonfires giving way to bars.
A world so far apart,
Dwelling in a timeless heart.

How different is this time,
Cannot be captured in a rhyme.
But think before you scoff,
Is it really that far off?

An Egoist

Brought forth from the cradle of the sun, 
When our world was but only begun. 
In the darkness sat a world of fear, 
Swirling around what you held dear. 

Into the darkness you reach, 
The confines of logic you breach. 
A hero to chase the night away, 
And bring order and a mighty fay. 

And from this you draw forth a blade, 
And with it your petty fears waylaid. 
And into this hero you invoke you, 
And lay out what you are to do. 

So much of you invested in this lie, 
Soon it can never die. 
And out of this story of your own, 
You forge your ill-gotten throne. 

A legion through time oft deceived, 
Fooled until the lie believed. 
For who cares if the blood is a river, 
For yours is the cause of a life giver. 

And who cares if those in pain must wait, 
For the glory lies beyond a gate. 
And what difference does it make, 
If all you know is a fake? 

Time will come and shatter your world, 
The depths of your lie unfurled. 
Some embrace the dark you hate, 
But for them the fear did abate. 

I heard your mighty roar, 
And wail as your throat grew sore. 
Your world could never last, 
Its end was born in the past.

Medley

Twisting. Spinning. Burning.

Sound ever growing.
Thought ever flowing.
Time ever running.
Faith ever fooling.
Strength ever waning.

Fleeing. Running. Terrorizing.

Lament raised on high.
Echoing in the sky.
Warriors bleed and die.
Hate comes to fly.
Hark your end is nigh.

Stopping. Resting. Wondering.

Serenity from the abyss.
Calmly a ship to list.
Beauty in the mist.
Fire consumes this.
Peace found in Nyx.

Mea Maxima Culpa

It seems such a simple thing,
so easy to understand.
In my world I remain king,
and all is done right by my hand.

Driven by that which I love,
a world undone by what I do.
To grant them peace's dove,
a thousand score must be run through.

Please let it be worth it,
this sacrifice seems too great.
In our victory our sins we acquit,
that which we left behind smolders with hate.

What we give for a future,
is what we take from another's past.
Lives traded just a feature,
of those values to which we hold fast.

What makes us right,
and what makes them wrong?
This cannot be decided by a fight,
though blood may flow and memory be long.

I care not for gods bounty,
his is not what denies my sleep.
For no faith may answer that entreaty,
producing nightmares from my rest to keep.

Forgive us our sins,
each of them committed in your name.
For when that army wins,
you brand us as murderers all the same.

For this alone I beseech thee,
understand us in our darkest hour.
And in your understanding set us free,
for it is only within your power.

Amicitia

The world is full of odds and ends,
simple pleasures for lustful minds.
A thousand paths for us my friends,
a thousand curves even but one winds.

This journey's direction never changing,
marching forward day and night.
Along the way we go rearranging,
our destination hidden from sight.

What a lark this adventure be,
a fancy ride through high times.
But sometimes it isn't so carefree,
a somber punishment for forgotten crimes.

Whatever comes my way in life,
I'll be ready to walk on through.
Be it pain, love, happiness, or strife,
I'll walk with friends both old and new.

Dissonance

Faceless yet strong,
standing guard over thier world.
Righteous yet wrong,
A long forgotten banner unfurled.

Lost in dark thought,
swirling and sinking.
With time ill bought,
used for faulty thinking.

Simplicity often set aside,
for the sake of our sins.
Pain encouraged by pride, 
Even when nobody wins.

So many things are not this or that,
but wrapped in a maelstrom of yes, maybe, and no.
Yet when presented with binary fact,
We make life more chaotic as we go.

And when shown problems of great complication,
with decisions to be made by wise voices.
We choose with far too much elation,
To make them into yes or no choices.

I enjoy a challenge as much as the next,
Looking, watching, and thinking.
And try not to make too much of any text,
And into the unknown stand blinking.

I refuse to make simple what is not,
And refuse to uncomplicate an argument.
And although it will leave me behind a lot,
It might just let strong ideas ferment.

A Thousand

A thousand things I could have been,
A thousand stories left untold.
A thousand chances never to come again, 
A thousand times I was never bold.

A thousand names I have been called,
A thousand words I have spoken.
A thousand legends left galled,
A thousand silences utterly broken.

A thousand memories locked away,
A thousand more not yet formed.
A thousand more and not one more day,
A thousand seconds never more to be wasted.

A thousand moments lost to time,
A thousand more to come on down.
A thousand words committed to rhyme,
A thousand more to come around.

Chances lost and chances gained.
Patterned never quite the same.
Thousands more I hope to see.
In thousands more I hope to be.

The Place

I came upon a forgotten place,
filled with age old history.
A tiny hopeful space,
with an ever deepening mystery.

I stood in the crowded middle,
staring at relics of days gone by.
Trinkets to see and gadgets to fiddle,
memories stacked sky high.

I enjoyed the rush as it all came back,
every hour of giddy anticipation.
And saw what I had long come to lack,
a simple child's imagination.

As the memories advanced in time,
I saw my dreams morph and move.
Playful stories of words that rhyme,
to books with dour points to prove.

Dragons and knights faded away,
replaced with suits and briefcases.
And toys with which I would once play,
Settled into dark dusty places.

I saw these things fade to grey,
As my recollections came to a close.
Simple pleasures just went away,
As reality always knows.

Our Onus

Show me one wounded soul,
I'll show you yet another.
A morbid contested goal,
To try and out suffer your brother.

Everyone must feel that pain,
And in that pain be born. 
And suffer that black drain,
As time's weight must be borne.

I cannot abide by anyone,
who sets their sins on high.
For when all is said and done,
We all must at some point die.

Each onus never fails,
To bear us to our spot.
Against the heavens he rails,
Against his own chosen lot.

We choose what burden we must bear,
As we choose what we will do.
So it cant be very fair,
To lessen what others must go through.