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Night In
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Misc./Exp. Soft touches upon my neck as he passes.
Dangerous lines wrapping over the flames.
Torn away the Id from the restless masses.
Lost to careless and empty eyes today Xanadu's spires.
Running from the past unto the flames tossed souls, funeral
pyres.
Frozen the nerves of the soldier by some inane gasses.
Outside the window the rain of blood continues.
Across the cold stone floor he scurries to gather books.
Long ago we agreed upon the fashion of our hooks.
Casual never the love under the guise of any venue.
Entranced by his subtle lingering upon the stars I weep.
The battlefield draws nearer each day, no one dares to
sleep.
Tender are the longed for drops of life, kisses.
Whispering to me confessing it is indeed I that he misses.
Softly comes the rain as we rest in slumber, dreams lost.
Upon the ocean the sailors wail as a craft into the gale
tossed.
Risen is he unto the night, eyes unseen but distantly away.
No one is ever wrong nor right but we are not ones to say.
There in the strange land we stood merely watching sadness.
Wishes do endlessly become granted upon the highway of life.
Hands bound in shackles to ankles, forward on, no stopping
madness.
Bitter sweet we made our peace in our eyes, love beyond the
strife.
So it is that all anyone knows are the terrors.
Pleasures forever lost within Styx's tower.
They may soon return unto their homes, look to the mirrors.
It's never over power.
Benjamin K. Badgley
Saturday, 29 March 2003
