The Darkest Dawn

For the longest time, in this timeless life of mine
I have looked for the finer things
in life, in love, in all beyond
and for the longest time, I have found nothing
in love, in light, in all below
there is always music in between
always dreaming, for the dream
I search, I seek, I look within
but find nothing of value, for you my queen
for life is the dream we all left behind
we all dwell within the demented mind
delving deeper into a world we don’t understand
with words, without weight
lords that are late, for the ball, the band and beyond
we call, and we make excuses
for the ones we deem useless
defenseless and drowning in words that are easy
calm to the touch

For the longest time I have searched for a word
to describe the world inside
to find meaning as our minds collide
I don’t ask for much
only letters, and such, I am no angel
and you are no demon
but the world has come calling once more
through fires and failure, and through the windows we’ve watched
there is no peace
and there are no more summits left to reach
for the longest time you thought I searched for you
you were wrong, and I was too
synaesthesia breaks you down as I build myself up
into the clouds and the hells above
I’ve found the world I have been searching for
in the cupboard, down the stairs
down the gullet of a world that never cared
up the streets of Neverthere, Nevermore
emptiness breaks its back to hold my chair
I rock and reign as the music blares
bellowing sounds upon my heart, my chest
oh how you wish to hear the rest
to know the path I walk upon
to know the river as it runs
with red, and ash
down to the end for a broken black mass

for the longest time, and the longest run
I have wanted what I have become
no more lies to feed the flies
to feed our furies in disguise
I have watched, we have learnt
the hour is late and my work is done
the time is now
and now has come

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Sun Spots

like doves in the wind
we sit and stare
at you in your red dress
they were there
at the start of it all
in the morning dramas
bored with barbers and all the lights
all the fathers that failed their wives
men that were and girls that gain
all the wonder in the rain
all the words
birds, that flock together
no more white for the feathers
just life without leisure
a place of no pleasure or purpose
droning day in
a day out makes me nervous
and the souls that know nothing
they moan
we could say something
or groan
no more hatred for the hare
late again dear Fred
i stare, at all the sights
the darkness grows in the absence
of rights
injustice in everything
but they’d rather fly kites
fly fish and fight
themselves in the night, in the parks
in the waxing and waning
moon lark
moon day
Amun-Ra will have his way
and we’ll know the answers at the end
the cycle that plays
is no more surprising than a friend