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What stands in chambers where darkness is hollow
What lives in hallways where light is only tomorrow
What crawls in dust where monuments once raised
What cowers and screams as memories of dreams fade

What is breath neither out nor in
What point is there for the lost to win
What is forget for the unquiet thought
What is embrace that the broken one sought

What is rain that leaves no pools
What is calm as the heat of passion cools
What will it look like outside of the palace,
And why do such ideas leave the throat cold and callous

What is empty between the reason and rhyme
What is home between nothing and time
What is crowd for the voice without sound
What is love for the heart buried under ground

What can we do for the undreamt wandered
What place remains for the lidless eyes sundered
What can we say to the one in our void,
And where will it go when our empty has been cloyed

What light is left now our journey nears end
What is there for us here forward to send
What could there be then to matter at all,
Now the light has faded and the sun grows tall

What stands in chambers where darkness is hollow
What lives in hallways where light is only tomorrow
What crawls in dust where monuments once raised
What cowers and screams as memories of dreams fade




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There is something of me in the most lonely of place.
Something of me in the empty of its face,
The winds that whip to carry aloft
The thoughts of patrons from their well manicured croft.

So to these winds now do throw your abandon
And the Lacuna will afford you a place to stand on.
Amongst the empty of voice and smile,
Will the Lacuna show you the way of exile.

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You presume to know
And never to ask
What keeps you so quiet,
Eye focused on task.

You don’t want to know
And always to see
A way through black to white,
To avoid all risk to be.

You just can’t risk to know
And ever must you run.
Broken souls on craggy shores,
Keep your empty sockets from the sun.

You must stand still to know
And now risk the mist to take
The sword from out its blinding sheath,
Pour your blood into the lake.

You feel the need to know.
For some comfort pray to still
The hand that rises at call of heart
To keep the ink far from the quill.

So you live without the know,
And ever will you be
An happy man in happy clothes
with only shadows to see.

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Drown within the madness of self.
Take down your ears from off the high shelf.
Rip from your grasp the comfort of sorrow,
And dare to put out the flame of tomorrow,

Wrap yourself now in the cloak of the clock,
And on this shrouded shore stand fast and take stock.
Live beyond the boundaries of fleshes sight to see,
Crack open the mind and brush off frights dust now free.

Burn yourself here from the land of Other.
You have no family no sisters no brothers.
See now the love only empty can give
When mundane has been vanquished and strange allowed to live.

Reveal the eye you hid long ago
And rip off the hand that claws at the show
Of will now bidden by moonlight to rise.
Of the sun to burn black the swell of the tides.

Drown within the madness of self.
Take down your ears from off the high shelf.
Sheath your swords, and step out upon the sea,
The me in you is loose to spread wings of glass and be.

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Let snow that settles upon the ground,
Let rain that thunders to block the sound,
Let mist that clings to memory and mind,
Let wind carry downward leave nothing behind,

Let paint that flakes from dying walls,
Let water that soaks through untrodden halls,
Let dust that drifts in the empty words air,
Let fire burn coldly leave nothing to spare,

Let cracks that show the predation of time,
Let snags that rip at fabric paradigm,
Let all of these wash over let your fingers breathe to see,
Please love please hate please now let me be.

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What have you now the day of you nears end?
What have you here of life now to send?

What is the shine your thoughts do glimmer?
What is the fire the pot left to simmer?

What is the demand you make of your self,
What do you seek here madness or wealth?

What will you say when the work nears a close,
And are you happy with the path that you’ve chose?

Because in the end of the line there is no reason nor rhyme.
Just a lunatic’s passion and the rest left to time.

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A bar across the blank minds gaze.
A gap for time left behind in a haze.
This place to pass your erstwhile hour
The buttress afforded you fragile to cower.
And around around the clutter does sound
Till brain is left glowing and thoughts run to ground.
We lost and found in other minds wander
Afforded no respite afforded little ponder.

Expert of ignorance the world before you bare.
You have no interest in wisdom to find there.
What hope is there where noise passes for thought
And what hope where the empty passes for the sought?
The growth of stone has spread here so far
Closed tightly up sense drowned feeling in tar.
So leave up the bar, and leave me to the blank.
There is no point in hope for a ship already sank.

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It has been so long since last we spoke
Out from under the harness and yoke.
I scarcely recognize your soft worn face,
It seems so fitting for this silk begotten place.

I must confess a growing confusion.
Why is it now here you seek your inclusion?
What has grown stale within your without?
What is the source of dissatisfactions bout?

You question my ask, but are not here content.
Your wild staring eyes a desperation foment.
The question is alien dissent now unknown,
Your fields have grown bare with seasons crops left unsown.

So where do you find your misbegotten selve?
Do you hope for relief in the depths you now delve?
Why here so glum with plaster you had bought,
Did the price of lights sour the promise you had sought?

And will you now please the hungry minds demand,
Will you grind away your smile leave your name to wind and sand,
For the answer to question is plain to sighted here,
Where else my frightened friend where ever and here.

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I missed the glow that comes from the see.
I wallowed too long in fruitless ambition we
were sold when young too impatient and naive.
Too filled with what and if with nothing there to weave.
But here now I find what I loved long ago.
Here now I see hope for a face left to show
The frail of youth has drifted become callous hard and worn.
The heart a strong and bitter lump for all the times it was torn.
And now silk encircles and the light of see returns,
Now darkness begins retreat and the warming heart churns
The thick blood round my crags dismantling the stone.
The broken glass does open to see a way back to my home.

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The rhythm, the rhythm, the track in now motion,
The rumble, the rumble, the murmured human ocean,
The sight, the sight, the movement turned sound,
The heartbeat, the heartbeat, the metal ringing round,

The sun now, the sun now, dirty shores all agleam,
The people, the people, so little do they seem,
The children, the children, wandered so far from the crib,
The parent, the parent, a sword worn down to the nib,

The heavy, the heavy, upon ears does it weigh,
The rhythm, the rhythm, now driven all far away,
The smart, the wise, where does the idea come,
The joke, the joke, all of we have become,

The light, the light, moons left long ago,
The rider, the rider, seeking pity scorn and woe,
The empty, the empty, what here now left to fill it,
The home, and company, where upon old throne find respite,

So here now, so here now, we people do remain,
In constant search for prize with nothing left to gain,
And there now and where now can we find thing less a sigh,
And how long but how long before heart returns to sky.

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I wonder often at sight unseen
I there find place to consider myself been
Within this delicate and unsounded thought
Herein what promises what dreams lived unsought
What sea now roils neath surface unbroken
What life of flight glimmers in skies moulded unspoken
Herein must I find against all will to seek
The messenger of word unwanted enfeeble my mind to weak
And ever must I guard against what I have been
Lest eye of other unseat me lest the sight of stare be seen

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Saccharine sweet the chorus does sound
Helmet in place and armour run round.
To the eyes of Other does your conflict give wing
From throat of wonder misanthropes songs sing.
Where do we find some comfort to still?
The shower of mind in crowded rooms will.
How can we now see a way through to white,
And should we now fear the on come of night?

I have an answer maybe to some of these thought
To other answers maybe not the answers that you sought.
At inquiries behest you to crave a solution
To seek some account for comforts dissolution.
Why is it you look with empty inquiry wondered,
Seeking vindication for the wandered gaze blundered?
And you to Other an implicit question bring,
What excuses your theft of the worlds sounds ring?

So herein we live, a waking dream made
A house of sodden sand on foundations crumbled laid.
And unto this mansion our crooked thoughts parade
from all around and in without, with not chance to be swayed.

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I don’t know what brought me here
Can’t account for where I was
Lost sight of brighter bearings
And set course for stranger sides.
A broken lens I found,
Cracked through the heart to share
A dappled view of normal things
Set fast within myself.

The still of dancing wind, all sensation left to silence.
The fall of empty clouds, the sky left grey to answer
The prayers of earth-bound envy many, to the grace of voided life.
Up and up to eyes of heaven
Dreams of open sky bring flight.
Out of of earth, and out of many,
Into the quiet, and into the white.



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