The past weighs heavy on my mind,
Its shadow ever close behind,
A presence never hard to find,
Its power renders all life blind.

The present takes a constant hold,
Its grip imprisons young and old,
A nightmare dark and ever cold,
Its bitter song plays loud and bold.

The future floats just out of reach,
Its lessons cruel and hard to teach,
A distant dream we all beseech,
Its promise lost in mortal speech.

Goats in wolves clothing**


SoulSurvivor

It rains.
A truffled scent
glitters
in dead leaves,
naked trees.
Transudation
into the depths
of the night.

Sometimes we have to
stop long enough;
observe into,
breathe into,
and listen to the silence of the void...

Our days on the archipelago , resentful at the pinnacle of the highest mountain in wanton view of a different island ...
To reach the zenith with no memory as to our road home , triumphant in our conquest yet discontent to mingle with the clouds , scowl into the face of our threadbare mortality , desirous to forever reinvent ourselves and to explore ..