Feather

I watched the small feather fall to the ground.
It seemed quite confused, unable to land
in the perfect place where it could be found,
carried delicately by someone's hand.
Then turned my attention to six children
listened intently about bosses, games
characters, scores and strategies to win.
Backed out the car and we were on our way,
the fallen feather watched me slowly drive
down the long street until I disappeared,
curled into itself, attempting to hide
how alone it felt in the grassy field;
I composed this song from a fleeting thought;
a metaphor for the love I have lost

Sieve

a tiny hole in the heart
becomes a tear in the soul
when the damage done
is never repaired

Guilt

scraping and scratching
panicking and desperate
jagged manicure of helplessness
leaves eerie marks of terror
hollow cries and low moans
invade my dreams
and shape into what seems to be
a dark, intrinsical fear
inside of my head
clawing on superstitions
that only black cats can bring
and when he finally rests
and gives me his best mischievous smile
he sings
I ate the canary....
I ate the canary...

May

I call upon the Sixth of May once more
somehow, someway to energize my trust
Just make me feel the love I felt before
I was drained by your absolute silence
This tinted, tarnished steel covered in rust
from crying salt stained tears on metal doors
which used to bridge the emptiness in us
lies broken, crushed in anger on the floor
That special moment when we shared a vow
to love within our hearts and nothing less
Whispered words: someway, somewhere, somehow
became our path of love and happiness
I need the Sixth of May to redirect
my disconnected soul from your neglect

Morgue

Faces and places consume my reprieve
The moon screams an apocalyptic glow
Pin pricked by pain my heart leaks like a sieve
Into false waters and darkness below
There lies an untruth in each of your words
You refuse to speak when I crave it most
Losing the sky like a broken winged bird
Attempting to talk through a clouded host
I crash land alone into lost memories
The rain becomes jealous of each tear shed
Dropping my heart onto cold, wet, concrete.
Gasping for love -- its reached terminal death
The horror will dry and my heart will shrink
Embalmed in loneliness -- frozen reprieve.

Paradeaux

It's not about the flowers --
they're as beautiful and bright as can be
But the longing I feel
staring at an empty chair
and the unfinished cup of tea.

I see you in the music
when I'm searching for tranquility
But the sadness seeps in
my desire still burns
I miss you touching me...

There's a hidden door of truth
where my hopes and fears combine
A shadow stirs pain
deep scars plague my heart
Will they ever fade with time?

It's not about our time lost
or some impossible possibility
But the lonely view
of a life without us
and the unwritten symphony.