Treason of the wind is to remain, sand stone and dust
Sand stone and dust is all we’ve tried before,
Before the raining days and blowing toppled sea waves
Tip top above the lot, the lonely man craving the sea
For his house no longer a home has burst the love, the fiery fear
And that is all
We hear
The good quiet and bad blown loud.
Loud and louder.....
Until......
Treason of the wave becomes in itself a love
Of grass and trees, shroud the sun and run, have fun
That itself is love
That is love and the wind and the wave and the tree and love.
I miss the all,
the all of it; I miss her all the most.

Down when and now not tomorrow (though tomorrow will be)
Do not worry today is not the last of its kind;
“It hurts today, and to think, it has hurt before”
“But that’s life”
“The happy in life though, where is it hiding”
“behind the night”
“But is it this night? It must be this night, this moon”
The moon, the moon, no sun, but the quiet light blazing beyond our sight
“This night is something new but will not be different”


Not different

But new

An hour in the grandeur of life
Is relegated to an hour,
It will never be more.
“But I’ve seen so much in this hour,”
But it remained an hour and remains a moment
And remains nothing more.

For the man, passer by, passing by..... passed by and had nothing of your moment
It is only yours, he has nothing of it
It is only yours, so keep it safe.
Not with fear of losing it
No, it is special and it will be lost.
But keep it safe because it is not his.....it is yours.

The days roll by like clouds
Though i cannot touch them, i see them
whisper away.
And with them i fade, steady
Then all at once as the wind paints my mind
grey,
Red and blue, colours of beauty once but gone now.

The water screeches along the shore,
Depths of madness and malice
Are reached, cascading along in a roar
And it continues ever so long,
for the river never ends, only
the light upon which it is seen.

Why do I follow such a thing,
A beast blind and wild as rapids
is my mind,
But i always follow.

And it has begun
The dram and the draas buried
It and all my steps.
For only when my past is suffocated,
Can my future breathe

If I collapse, into dirt
And deep earth, would
Your sun still rise
Or vanish, still and forgotten.
For I am your sun, am I not?
And should my light not be buried with me?
Should ground not extinguish it’s blistering cheer, yes
For This is life and I must not cry,
For my light is not yours, you must find your own.