Measure the hours with hushed prayers
Tremors erupt and invade
Collapsing bones powder the soil
Crumbling, trade silence for discord

As my limbs take action,
The sparks of pain
That resist every effort
Crackle from the inner flame
I once called inspiration

Sighs fall gently to our feet
We scatter poison ideas
as we run toward every corner
disgraced

Like the old gods
If we linger we will be abandoned
And sparsely paint the earth

The beat of an aging drum
Patters: ba da, ba da
Cadence of our repose
Begs for surrender

Savage and seething breath
And one merciless spark
Christen the clay and stone
Anoint the earth

Is power
Infancy's swift rise
Into self-awareness
Or is it knowing the lessons
Of what we've done

When did the remedy
Become the enemy?
In the tender web of night
She hisses lullabies

Cold, still air
Caresses quiet eyes
Immersed in blood
Embraced by ash

Who am I to play witness?
To an otherwise hidden passing
Left to the wind

I offer a salute
To your ruthless endurance

Borrowed canvas, fruitless contributions stunting evolution
Do I have the right to mourn for the
Death of what was never mine?

What moves a hand to action?
Smothering lumens of light?
Take me back to morning
when nothing fair was dying

My edifice reaches
Arrogant, into the night sky
Doomed to wither

I know now my tongue was stretched
To taste clouds, to curse the soil
Cast sparks into the wind
Pray for distance

I swore alliance with the morrow and its cultivation
To be formidable is worth the transitory agony

Irrational, deadened, insatiable
Acid in my chest simmers like the birch
And puckers the magnolias
Drift away

As the anchor resists the undertow
To settle its rust amongst the basalt
We remain naive to the subduction;
The ire that forged our stability

In deaf hibernation
Amidst a stunning collapse
Coughed into existence
By the breath of the hollow

It was to be nature's theatre
The splendor of the gods
Bestowing the gift
Of hearth and dance

The surface cracks
Giving way
To serpentine form

Persistence may be
The greatest strength
Of living things

Writhing through the ashen crypt

The fibers ripple
attuned and alive
untouched by the poison
Of malintention
They scatter like serpents
Across the blighted refuse
And blot the light from the sky

Can one take refuge in dissolution?
My many faces prove to be superficial

In my gut I feel the leash;
A disturbance tugging me
Into newness, grief, and awe

Perceptive and enlightened; Alive
The delicate insight of new eyes

In this cruel awakening
I tried like all before
To reconcile with all that was
And all that is to come

There I fade
Collapsed, entranced
By such complexity
Astounded by the grandeur
Of the waking realm

The entrance of my kingdom hides;
Lies dormant like the seeker

Open and persuaded
Observing with boundless eyes
The measure of our movements
Only live in the constraints of time

Cowardice begets mediocrity
The hour is nigh
Stale satiety cannot comfort us
The hour is nigh

Golden eyes ascending
from the embers
endure through the seething heat
through the ether they glide

An eastern wind carries the spark
Into the open
These orbs behold an emerald sea
Beyond the scorched earth

Memories unfold
Beckon the unknown

What sustains my light
Ravages the life
Of those who fly this far
A tribe relentless

Red, red peaks pierce clouds
With their splintered cloaks

Though roaring waves would prove fatal,
Their crests and crashes inspire
To satisfy the object of my journey
In spite of the danger at hand,
I glimpse ivory shores
A new chapter begins