domain

an attic of words, of buried treasure's, that make up mylife, a mood that takes me to the unknown, that has brought me to this, a understood question, that comfort's only the concept of my life backwords and forwward,

saddled by it's unconsideration, i have grabbed it's years, dangled by it's thread, an woven it to the man that i am, a composer, a lyric is my pen, my moment of a voice,

my monarch is of this, a dream, a whisper of belief an love, i have taking the darkness by storm, riding it's hardship's, i have bypassed it's drowning of me into the distance of a faded mirage of image's that no longer haunt me, nor do they decieve my heart,

i have found passege, truth, in a conscious thought, craddled it, as it hover's over, i can not be it's prisoner, motion guides faith,


it is my hand that pushes these key's, these words of a funcitonal mind that is over heard again, but never repeating nor begging,


once though did i beg, an over heard i was, my stature of this man is who i have become,


a mask of mason, of a pen.