At the end of drought When the rains finally fall Onto the thirsty earth The torrents cannot penetrate Into dehydrated clay To transport the nutrients Released by decay Up towards the blue heavens Because the spaces between The dessicated grains Of earth have shrunk So tight together that the Water molecules are Too large to percolate
Why, at the end of everything, Do I stand, searching for meaning? In the echoes of all I've seen, What's the point of where I've been? Deep are the bonds, and weird. Fleeting moments, passed or shared. Was it real or just dreamed? It is way more than it seemed... Maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’s all, Just an Empire's rise and fall. Everywhen nowhere lies unseen, Nestled in the quiet spaces Lying in between. Or broken. Do pens rhymn? Yours and mine? The end line
Today's the day, it's been coming for a long while, and now it's here. Prep'ing, planning, thinking, scheming and now it's time to Do The Thing! It's the first day of the new way, Planting seeds and growing vines, More adventures we'll be having More excitement is at hand ... But for now there is the hard work - Clicking buttons, learning the ropes, Recovering and balancing, Trying again ... cdn.glitch.global/39f98701-18b4-47fe-8050-56ee2d97fe60/Today.png
Travelling, travelling, never stopping Dodging bullets, seeking friends Going onwards! Upwards! Hopping! Over rocks and round the bends. Made a bond with Dying Man and Talked so many dark night hours What we had seen upon the land - Love and want and dreams and flowers Small and green, delicious smelling Taking dank minds to the light. Oh how I ached for his passing When he went softly to the night. I resist the pain of ending I swore I would not stop again. It would stop my heart from mending But peace and comfort I would gain. Life has methods of deciding Who and what it sends your way And so here I am confiding That I've seen the light of day Settled now, my eyes see new things New rewards the morning brings
But when the lonely horrors writhe Through the echos of our dreams The covers fall, reveal our scars -> and skeletons surround us one and all. A myth, a myth, A dream, a song A way to find escape But no-one comes, It's up to me, There is no hero's cape. I am too tired to care And here's a pond, along the way, With carcases and flies A place for us to play with words And dream a bit, mayhap? And break the rules... And laugh white pA1 to A4 black KN to F6 white RA1 to A3 Let's let the ashes drift Around us in the songs And as we build tomorrow Let the sorrow Fade away
Reluctantly - and with great dread - The watcher looks around the room With walls of art and deco roof, Where people go to rest. A very strange and fancy room where currents of old stories flow and mushrooms float through psychadelic skies; and people pass away and people live with all their heart and people strive each day to help thier fellow man, and yet, despite the fact they give their all their all goes all askew. Coz all we have, and all we are, - all temporarily on display - Covers all the guilt and shame With gilded smiles and happy yays.
Have I found myself a pond? A place where I can sit upon The lily leaves and be a frog? Eat some flies? Sleep on a log? Or quack a bit and bob along Amidst the stories and the song? This checkered pond, digital realm, the Byte Monk's True Domain? "What is this Wonderland I've found? With floors of blood, and walls of souls Adorned with sticks and stones?"
