isn’t it plain?
does it feel the same to anyone?

to feel so strange,
but still blend in with everyone?

to cry under the sun,
to cradle close the moon,
to run, run, run,
from the laughing, sunlit hands of june?

isn't it strange?
to be outmanned and outrun?
outstanding show of hands for the
man who stands outgunned
clutching close apollo’s bow and arrow

and feeling first the bullet’s stinging
then a ringing sinkhole clearing the clouds

for the skies muted emptiness
and the rain that whispered near

and the wise man laughing
as the baby pulls his beard

and the seer finally blinking and
rubbing his eyes

and the soft sliding worms loving
delicious demise
and decay unraveling in the empty night
within itself to expose a hidden light

and the rising tide pushes your fragile feet
towards that same glow
your chin is held in the palm of awe
but your slow

so you run and you shout say "hey, man-
don’t cut me out!"

all i wanna say
is written in the empty graves
taking up space

all i wanna see
is dripping in soft streams
from the lone moon

all i wanna feel
is ripping at my guts
and biting my heels

all i wanna be
is churning in a stormy sea and
laughing at the shore

what does it mean? what do i care?
who are you then? who’s that fella over there?

he smiles a stitched smile
opens my scars with his scythe

and slowly
shows me
the beauty
of our strife

and as it welcomes you you feel
a smile
swirl into a circle
gently spinning
as your wounds mend
themselves by singing

bringing light upon;
upon your apparition
as it is
out-shined

on earth, as flesh decays,
on earth, as the reign of flesh ends,
on earth, where my words are lain,
on earth, where my notes will bend,
on earth, as flesh decays,

there is a sunrise