Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Ash Wind

So burned out, just a shell of smoke and hell.

So tired... like a pound of iron cold on each breath.

I really need a change, I really need to stop settling for the ash on the wind.

Settling for smoke and mirrors, scared of dreams and fears.

Self destructive cures, when theres nothing but the button.

Reset the great machine, the slaver, the cruel and mean.

Days of daze and daze of days.

Through it out the ashen wind.

Drive out colors, smear your dirt.

Cover light, fill heart with hurt.

If I just hid my face away, stayed secluded, will decay.

Would it notice, that great machine, would my mind finally wash clean?

Thursday, August 12, 2010


An empty chair, an empty place in my heart.  A bitterness turned just slightly tart.

Thank you... Thank you...

You really have disappeared.

My smile aglow in the disconnected thread that is today.  Your ghost is gone and vanished; lost in times sweet delay.  This curve through space is broken and faded.  Not so hurt, not so jaded.

Thank you...  Thank you...

Find elsewhere to drive your spear.

How subtle is the washing of the sands of time.  How quietly out of heart and out of mind.

Thank you... Thank you...