Heaven bound, oh glory be!
A broken beggar and roaring sea.
The light is just a common thief
poised and idle underneath.
Seven crowns, eleven kings!
A fourth were always born to bleed.
And darkness now our last belief,
we’re forth in sorrow endlessly.
Boy
brought the light
within his soul.
Forever in the cold.
Forever darkness
grows.
Boy
fought the fight
within his home.
No longer he’s alone.
No longer shall he
roam.
See the man and watch him burn.
He hears the whispers,
the cracking of some ancient fire.
Ever closer, ever nearer.
See the man within him turn.
He’s in the shadows,
the specter of a time now lost.
Never brighter, never clearer.
Once there was a mountain babe
who climbed from mother’s womb.
He was born into a mountainless land
while the flowers were in bloom.
Once there was a mountain boy
who climbed his father’s side.
He stood upon his father’s shoulders
and met the crown with pride.
Once there was a mountain youth
who scaled the tallest trees.
He gazed upon the openness
and found no mountains within reach.
Once there was a mountain man
who dreamt of higher peaks.
He would have sought the mountain tops
if it were not for the children at his feet.
Once there was a mountain elder
now too old to make the climb.
He settled near the tallest trees
it was just the right incline.
We spoke the words in melody
as thoughts raced through our heads.
Like the singing of some raging sea,
was the screaming in our chests.
Your words are like a symphony,
your beauty none can test.
Like a bringing back to life, it seems,
is the vision of what’s next.
These words are but a passing gleam,
our hearts are something else.
Like the stealing of some child’s sleep,
you take my every breath.
I no longer dream of you
coming back to me
now all of my dreams are
vacant and bare
And I no longer scream in
the night while I sleep
now all of my screams are
just in my head
A wooden boat too small to be
so far out from everything.
It is drifting toward the unknown –
up and down repeatedly.
Atop some black and purple sea
that is calm and still and deep.
In the background rests the horizon –
it is red and orange and pink.
He sits alone and starts to think
of the home he had to leave.
Looking back to what is behind him –
to the place he cannot flee.
A wooden boat within a dream
that was meant for you and me.
It moves on toward the horizon –
to a place I cannot see.
Broken boy reduced to think
there is nothing new to dream.
Promises are effigies
set aside to burn.
What is left but memories?
Ash and teeth and bone.
Broken girl refused to see
there is something to redeem.
Promises, effortlessly,
set aside – returned.
What is left after you leave?
Earth and sea and stone.
We counted on our fingers
and buried with our hands.
The line of white still lingers
from the loss of silver bands.
Casting out our demons
and cancelling our plans.
My line of site, your reasons,
and the loss of silver bands.
