There lives inside my heart...
A driven dream...

Beeming through there,
I want to drive it true...

And be where else but I,
My mind, suffice it to be,

Worked hard, not subsistent,
Substantial, I want to win.

Wine and dine my ambitions,
Work them about my muscles, And
Let them lay where else but
Where,
I want them to stay,
And breathe and live,
Not die.....

And be my friends..


As I taste, the tear
Of the time, I remember
That I long
For what's mine in this
Universe.

And I find that was what,
That what was, is what is...
And can I, yes can I make it so,
I just did, a dream that I bid
To my bed, not farewell, but it goes.

I say goodnight
But, not to death.


Oh,
That I might've flung it to the farthest, vastest, reaches
Wherein it might have gone withered,
Away, by pride, madness, by others, or sadness.

I of course cried by all these reasons, At one time one at a time, or a lot at once
I greived by the lot of it. Amen.

To have seen all the worst patches gone by, and they'll always vanish
To reappear, 
Reaping and shunning.


But what's mine is mine is mine, and it shall always
Be mine, but not just, for my dream is the same...
As the others, the dreamers, the ones, as I...
They do, as I do, its shared, its mine for them.
And masked within,

I have been so moved to this place, i'm in.
So feeling, like home, a blur
Like a drunken stupor, moved here by omen
And hands that were not mine.

The calm, only after the storm.

I keep hearing silence as things
Fight around me, and I would not
Rather be anywhere,
Of this body that I'm in,
Greater than I envisioned,
A mirror of hope for
The boy in my mind
Who's still so young...
The window to my bones and soul.
And innocence.
The widow of the breaking off point,
Of battled, rattled, poor and addled, shifty
Shitty, blighty of a life, that I longed for
To end, deep in my heart, before it
Lifted, opened, and upheaveled and filled
And began with ways that were new.


The virtue falls like waterfalls of swords,
Of magnificence, a culling up of calamity,
Buzzing around, encasing me, completely 
Surrounding, that my visibility is obscured,
By all the piercing virtue swords, as any 
Keen pursuer would have ever glance and Who ever engaged me with...  The glares.
sharp as any knife, 
The jeers, The kind ones,
The jabs, The ones of life.

Have coloured my strife with a raindow,
Profusion, and no I don't regret.
That I have ever been given,
Whatever the downpour,
I've been drenched in.