Just let go

“Just let go,”

I heard the dead man say–

all fire and steel,

this medieval madness in my veins.

Touch the Fire,

watch it burn–

my flourish of steel

can ward the Dragons,

but this feathered sword is nothing to the light.

I could write you off,

but never Time–

ensconced in the moment

I wear it like a shield

to burn the fires out around me.

Still through the swirling smoke–

the fires die,

but the scorches linger.

The black marks on my skin

refuse to go–

I Breathe but I cannot Release

and I am Bound

Forever by the Deed.

Nothing is as it seems

I woke up early this morning and literally rolled out of bed with this one on my mind. If it was related to dreams I had last night, then it’s probably a good thing I don’t remember them. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy:

Nothing is as it seems—

The old die old,

The young die young,

One perpetuates the other

In waves of maddening

Disillusion not withstanding—

We are players and audience

The stage ours to watch

And ours to play.

But where is the director?

The play plays on in

Such maddening discourses,

There is a plot twist somewhere—

Is this how it was written?

Read somewhere that parents should

They should never have to bury their children,

But the children fight their wars

And the children fight each other

And the old have lived it all.

The mind reflects in odd ways—

Always they remember the old days as better

Days, but they are gone.

Where is the proof?

The mind is fickle, it remembers

What it wants to remember

So the monologue seems better—

There is no difference.

The old are tired.

All they want to do is to lie down,

But they are watching and waiting—

Am I to die?—

But the young are restless

And in their roaming the world

Every moment and monument is theirs—

But they hasten to sleep

And they do not arise,

And the old weep and laugh in terror.