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 

Creative Rose

Blood red rose shines 

In a nocturnal night sky

Leaks a dew

From its petals 

Engulfs the night

A silver fox charges 

Through moonlight

She locks a box

With a key

Thinking about what it could be 

Hidden inside the mind

Unlock the paper

Place the ink

Divulge your wildest dreams 

Fantasy of

Creativity

Is it enough 

To push the word further deeper 

Until there is no conclusion 

Only imagination 

Black Sorcery

Black Angel wings 

Fallen from the sky 

Dark beauty 

Forlorn to die 

Carved inside the stone 

Of Ancient Sorcery 

The cracked wing 

Releases its treachery 

Deep beneath the surface

Of an immortal plane 

Suffers to reach 

Enrobed in pain 

On a throne of Onyx 

Made of marble 

The wing speaks 

To the dead 

Its heavy feathers 

Encased with lead 

I Dream...

I dream forever 

Of days to come 

Bonds to be severed 

And tunes I will hum 

I dream always 

Of days long past 

What history says 

And moments that didn't last 

I dream on 

Of days that are now 

Where I belong 

And what I now vow 

I dream in a world 

That no one else can see 

In a reality twirled 

Into fantasy 

I dream of Unicorn, Phoenix and Dragon 

Of lands never seen 

Of bards with flagons 

And adventures waiting for me 

Fog

I need to bleed onto this paper 

Pour the blood to fill it 

With my insides 

Splatter my pain 

For you all to see 

Finally shedding my security 

Bleed it dry 

From the fog in my head 

The buzzing fog 

Clear my eyes 

Clear my nose 

From this awful weight 

Weighing me down 

Like chains on the innocent 

The hurt like 

Razorblades slicing through 

My insides 

My organs ache 

Hollow scars upon my skin 

These words are my only 

Friend 

Loneliness is killing me 

I need to breathe 

I need to see 

The beauty in creation 

But I see nothing but 

Death and pain 

Life is made for fools 

Ones that bite the hand 

That feeds them 

I see into their facade 

The ones that are left behind

Rotting corpses 

Of skin and flesh 

Unbeatable hearts 

Full of sorrow 

In their solitude 

The constant fog 

Bleeds into their brain 

The fear that holds them tightly 

As the will fades 

Keep them in the dark 

For the dark holds the fog 

That can never die 

Gentle Ghosts

Dreams, 

Fragile beauty of the mind 

Sky-colours that slip between the sheets 

And paint the night with memories 

Gentle ghosts, they are 

That live within 

And wait for night to emerge 

From the frosts of day

Echo

In the labyrinth of Stalactite caves, 

Hear the Echo of crashing waves, 

Wandering in a cavern of black and grey, 

For the Echo fades everyday, 

Rise to the roof exposed by a shaft of light, 

As I look into the rays blasting down. 

My call comes to me on waves of time, 

Carried by the Echo over walls of lime, 

An oasis beach, with trees of palm, 

With dolphins swimming around so calm.

From an outlet above water cascades down like snow. 

And splashing sounds fill the air on the Echo.