Beyond the Whims of Life

Flowers that bloom
In a desert without rain
Such are the lies
Of poets and dreamers
Who weave their webs
Of words and images
Who are we to cast doubt
On their knowledge
Never to hope for the illusions
They see within their minds
When we are still seeking
The enlightenment
They are grasping at.

A white barrier of endless frost
Tonight we see the rivers
As they have always been
Their paths frozen in time
The clouds fall gently to earth
Renewing our feelings of confinement
On this pale little world
A soundless calm is in the air
As if we know the end is near
But tomorrow the sun will rise again
Its pale glimmer shining through
The everlasting white
The world will be cold
But the hope reborn
We have lived another day
What more is there than that.

Black roses fall like
Frozen teardrops on my soul
Shattering the lies
That could have been

Looking up from the grave
I dug for myself
You knock dirt over me
Not noticing that I was within

Darkness falls
The light I once saw in you
Has gone out
And I am left alone
With my thoughts

Shadows pass over
All serving to remind me of you
And none enough to pull
My tortured spirit from its depth

In the end when all is calm
And I am once again alone
I pull my pale body
From its coffin

Falling into the patterns of life
That others choose to follow
As if it has any meaning at all
And hoping that should love
Pass my way again
That my soul can survive
Any heartbreak it might bring.

Weavers of the world
Poets of the night
Demons of our soul
We are all but dreams
Out of pace with time
Doomed to live as shadows
Existing but with no life
A candle burning brightly
Illuminating for a while
But in the end forgotten
Remembered by few
Forgotten by all
Flicking as if to cry for help
There is no hope
There is only eternity.