Monday, September 20, 2010

Dicotomy of Age


A fragile flower, struggling upright in the harsh breeze

A small spark that illuminates the darkest day

Secret longings that can never know daylight

The power to be better that knows not struggle's end


An ethereal life of happy possibility

May live within the center of a grayed reality

Where the winds heed your wave and call

Where many happy endings may be had


Your grace is in knowing that this place draws breath

A glimmer of hope where hopelessness plays for keeps

Many times thinking such joy is undeserved

But dreams also need a chance to be real

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

If Slayer worked a nine to five...

A life spent crawling a spiraling climb

Reaching for goals that have no name

Achieving an end that has no form

Spinning fool wheels for other's gain

Living the lie of progression

Value is not of possession

Until death you cannot see the regression

an existence of value to no one