So much we’re burning
These fields that used to be white oleanders
In our returning
We yield abuse where secrets light our candor –
The cost of learning

So much we’re hurting
In lands of gossamer we set on fire
It’s disconcerting
When hands, so often pure, seek to conspire
By act or wording

What are we choosing
In this, a temple built from isolation
And are we losing
Our grip by tempting guilt to fight salvation
By pointless musing

We fear the crashing
That long we knew would meet us when we plummet
Where no one’s catching
With songs of beauty weeping in our stomach
We keep on dashing…
…because we want it.


I look back to the place I thought I left you
In a palace made of dislocated dreams
And after what we went through
Did I do as I was meant to
When the parts of me I lent you
Weren’t clean

I climbed up to the place I thought I’d find you
There upon a cliff that rose above the clouds
And after my arrival
I then questioned your survival
When the loss of my revival
Echoed loud

I went back to the place I thought you left me
In a castle made of candlelight and mirrors
And the darkness that I live in
Cannot let me be forgiven
When I seem forever driven
By my fears

I try to find the place that we’ve forgotten
The one where you and I were still okay
Where hope was our confinement
And of joy we were reminded
I just hope that I can find it
And you’ll stay


When was it last that you walked through the orchards
When last the winter snow danced on your tongue
When last you walked on paths lit by the fireflies and moonlight
And shadows weren’t all you had in life to live among

When was it last that night was where you traveled
And stars were little candles meant for you
When valleys filled with flowers were the only roads you wandered
When every wish you made was always certain to come true

When was it last you saw light in the tunnel
When last you rushed to see it to its end
When morning was a song the moon composed for you to rise to
When gentle words and kisses were the worst that life could send

When was it last that all the world was wonder
When dawn was just a jewel for you to wear
When last you saw yourself the way I always seem to see you
As wonderful and beautiful and just so very far beyond compare


Oh, but there are moments in the ocean that we sail
Blue and stretching like a canvas
More a part of us than land is
Secrets lurking neath a liquid veil

Even for the ships that we have seen and then forgot
Either we feel like a lotus
Or a broken thing unnoticed
Free, or, by the water, always caught

Looking to the sky with hope or envy of its hue
Painted so with gentle strokes
The words that heaven never spoke
Praising it, or else, averting view

Truly, there are moments in this life that I contend
Are greater than the moments
Or the sum of their components
Worth sailing through to see the bitter end


Warped become the facets that I see
When viewing what was never really there
The taste of honey on the wings of bees
Comfort from the bloom that never cared

Sun and rainbows in the looming dark
Trees collosal in a seedless land
Songs of spring when dead is every lark
Warmth from those who still reject my hand

Fallacy has granted me a view
Shaped into a world that isn’t real
One where I am whole, even in lieu
Of the way I know I really feel

With a quill, this world I then compose
Wearing broken lenses, colored rose


Candlelight danced upon the walls
Not so unlike our words
Exhalations left your lips
But not one reason was heard

Warm embraces were replaced
By cold expressions on your face

Distance grew between our touch
Between our eyes and our trust

But… I’ve yet to leave
No… I still believe

Heaven exists when your arms are around me
Hell is when they’re removed
Heaven existed the moment you found me
Hell is life without you

There’s no heaven in my view
There’s no heaven without you

This is actually super old. Like…2005…maybe even earlier. It was actually the lyrics to a very short song that finished up a concept album. Clearly…I’ve really evolved as a lyricist. 😒


Maybe it’s a bridge too far
The one that leads to you
As if, indeed, it leads to stars

And so, perhaps, it seems absurd
To think I’d ever reach
The moon upon the wings of birds

Maybe it’s the past of here
Not so unlike the sun
An echo in the atmosphere

And so, perhaps, tomorrow is
The echo of today
That’s singing softly, “Stop returning to the places sorrow lives…”