Shadows

Shadows move, steal through the consciousness like a snake in the wild wilderness, seeing hidden footsteps, picking up scents left a long, long time ago, probes deep in the underbrush of best forgotten cuts and wounds, both inflicted and borne, shadows seeking the scent of your sins.

No more Fear!

I do not want to live in fear anymore, I do not want ‘what if’, ‘in case’ or ‘might’, I want to face each day with a clear conscious, I want to look forward to unravelling the hours without a thought or a worry, pure joy is what I want.

I do not want to live with guilt anymore, I want to look at and discard every horror and nightmare, I want to accept people and words at face value, I want to experience the day unhampered, footsteps light without the weight not mine to bear, and forgiven!, every transgression, wrong doing and betrayal, from myself, is what I seek.

And no!, too much has been lost in history, a simple recipe or the formula to wonder, knowledge vanished, secrets gone to the grave. Do not believe ‘all will be revealed in the end’, it induces the fear to keep you caged, obedient and transparent, I will live for myself, by my belief, by my heart.

Moon Magick

Every day I wait, every day it’s clear,

with the setting of the sun, from the shadows you appear,

I welcome your breath, I welcome the release,

all the weight it just dissolves, I am grateful for the peace

you bestow on me, gifting me with life,

freedom’s found when in your spell, down the path of silver light.

Moods

The clouds lie low and heavy,

pushing down on the valley,

pushing out its life and colour,

reducing lush greens to sullen greys,

stealing sight, muting sound, enveloping,

embracing, thickly cladding your being

with the weight of your lies and deceit,

forcing out the truth with your last dying breaths.

The End

  

But you see, there is no end, there is no starting over, what has been, has been,

placed into your memories, vivid images alive with feeling and colour,

hidden under a muddle of distractions, rhythms and routines,

but 3am is the time they rise onto the surface and either lovingly stroke your weary eyelids

or pillage through the darkness with the subtlety of a tank in midday traffic,

stealing every grain of sand left by the sandman, to their mirthful laughter you are left

to relive their offering, tirelessly, in the darkened auditorium of the world.

Take Back the Night

If you come with me tonight

I will take you to some might say hell,

I will take from every sense

‘til there’s nothing left in you to quell,

I’ll drive you even further

than the boundary you thought you had,

take and give, no, don’t hold back,

come with me, in this night, in this spell.

All alone when you wake up,

when you feel, when it’s too dark to see,

you’ll face regret and wonder

were you partner or an abductee

yet in your mind’s eye they play

the visions of what we unfolded

a need ingrained forever,

we'll meet again some day I foresee.

Surrender

I relinquish myself to you,

I have tried and failed

to counter you, sway you, control you, conquer you,

and although the thread of rebellion

lies tied heavy around my throat,

when instinct and reason wage a war

it’s the bearer who suffers defeat.

Disillusion

 It reaches hard and deep, a searing hot flame without an end, burning every fibre that is me,

striking again and again, a fierce determination hell-bent on a fiery destruction of all-consuming proportions not even the coldest, darkest oceans could quell, this longing to escape from this plane.

I am tired, tired of life, of the falsehoods, untruths, dishonour, despair, loss, dishonesty, cruelty, degradation, subjugation, futility, hopelessness, dire need, callous betrayal, faithlessness. I no longer wish to recite my lines, follow the directions given, read the script as if it were my choosing. I no longer wish to see the steady decline from beauty into disrepair, from flourishing to withering away, from growth and happiness to stagnation and addiction.

I feel the shifting of sanity, subtle bypassed to unashamedly evident, that the world is a stage and we are the players, slaves who pretend nothing is wrong, who anaesthetise our senses and our sight to the dissolution of society, of ourselves, of everything that’s right, there’s no respect in a dying man begging for his daily piece of poison.