Exit

A dark and twisted dream 

With no seeming end 

Search for exits 

From this hell within 

Nothing fills this empty void 

Nothing but hate locked in this place 

I live destined by fate 

Reach up

A child begging to be held 

You had the answers 

Yet you allowed me to fail 

This hidden cry from

The sleeping nightingale

You are the cure

That eases my rage 

Reach for me now

Leave life's shell 

I'll take you deeper 

Show you my own personal hell 

Autopsy Of A Dream

Let your muse express its kind 

In the autopsy of your mind 

Autopsied dream 

Fire, Air, Water, Earth 

Running wild in the forest 

An animal 

Silhouette of your future 

Flashes before your eyes 

Limbs like trees run on for miles 

The blood is the time 

The veins carry the clock 

To your next adventure 

Nightmare skeletons 

Forged in your mind 

Every cell a new memory 

That you cannot find 

Use your eyes like 

The Surgeon 

And perform the 

Operation 

To dissect each dream 

As if it were an abscess 

You need to remove 

Examine it like a Scholar 

Read the textbook 

Back to front 

Pick the journey 

To the dreams 

And piece them back together 

Like your organs 

Function to build life and 

Carry you through 

As can dreams 

Destroy you

Past, Present, Future

My past is dead

My memory died 

All remembrance has gone 

As easily as the Sun shone 

Rewrite my past 

Make it anew 

Recreate events 

As I would want 

Erase my past 

Make it last 

Something dark 

Something primitive 

Back to the Aborigines 

My past is a reverie 

Merely a memory 

A distant image 

In a cacophony of sound 

Reflected in the present 

Repeat the past 

Make it last 

Re-do all that has been done 

Forget the past 

It doesn't exist 

No matter what they tell you 

Start over 

Reborn 

You will be victorious

It's insignificant 

Your past has died 

Ancient and lost 

To the King of the Underworld 

Nothing 

Nothing 

So rewrite, renew, redress 

Recreate yourself 

The past you should have lived 

Is written in the forgotten books 

Of Ancient magic 

Old Oak Tree

Alone it stands 

In a suspect moor 

Tall and grand 

Overlooking the ground

Green luscious leaves 

Litter its boughs 

No fruits to be seen 

Its wisdom is rich 

A vast wrinkled trunk 

The anchor of life

Time passes things by 

Except the Old Oak Tree 

Lost in memory 

Of an old reverie 

Drowning

Can you hear me? 

Plunging deep down 

Water bound 

Hands like bricks 

Falling from earth 

Light fading 

No air in 

No air out 

Brain hits the panic button 

On red alert 

The will to escape 

Grows intense 

Reaching, reaching 

Pleading to the bricks 

Unleash 

Exhaustion but power 

The will never fades 

Pushing out 

Unleashing the Pythons 

Lifting up and out 

Life returns in an instant 

See the bricks 

Helpless still in water 

Can they hear me now?