Intelligence is wed
On the living and dead
Critics fight
Wee hours of night
Still my writing
Read


As my fingers trace the lines
On a tired and swollen face
Race the magic of disgrace
Wash the tears
Years past the mind
Ripple effect
Regret no not mine
Just a wailing in the sun
Run upon a painter's page
Rage is born
Heartstrings torn
Worn is my sage

Long the whale
Tooth past sail
Lay low
In her frozen glow
Know the tale

Wash the sands
Message is grand
Lay my pen down
Make nearly a sound
Found in the plan
Death is man
Sand is but truth

Trust in critic face
Place reminds of grace
Trace the lines
Vines of kind
Leave hope
A new chase
Regret no not mine
Just a wailing in the sun
Run upon a painter's page
Rage is born
Heartstrings torn
Worn is my book
Tattered and torn
Born again
Words my long lost friend
Dance on lips again
Silence slow to come
Intelligence is wed
On the living and dead
Critics fight
Wee hours of night
Still my writing
Read