The heart beats in a body dead.
A soulless drift through time’s counting.
Nearer to dusk than to dawn
it is the passing of things.
Nurtured from an empty breast
fed on guilt of missed chances.

We or the I still see in visions past.
The duality is confusing it yearns for separation
wanting to break free of the mortal cage
letting spirit fly to its lost destiny.
To a time of future or of past
either would do in place of the now.

Here resides the Body.


In other worlds there are conjure spells
granting desires forbidden by natural law
there are elves, dwarfs
and Yes Kings and Queens.
This is where the Lotus blooms.
Its scent carried on the wings of Fairies.

Some may call it fantasy others deny it altogether.
For those who do not believe
just ask the Lady Of the Lake.
She will show you scrolls of a Dream within an Island
Sacred writings of a joining of souls.

Here lives the Heart.