The darkness of the forest finds the softly snoring bear,
away from ice and wilderness inside the cave's domain.
His dreams are touched by Summers passed, asleep within his lair.
When warmth returns, he'll reemerge still limping from the pain;

The hunters tracked and targeted, the bear became the prey.
The bear sought love and found them out, an easy shot to place.
When he got close enough to see the rifles held at stay,
it was too late to realize the malice in their face.
They left him there all shot to hell, to track a challenge worthy.
Oh those hunters could not recognize that the beast had fallen early.

Somehow surviving, broken, stiff
the bloodied bear still kept ahead
towards the distant rocky cliffs,
to make his final Winter's bed.

Meth or Heartbreak

Dropped into your lungs like a star deprived of flight,
the chemicals are melting hot, unsupervised at night.
You itch out of your skin and the room begins to wane,
its boiling your soul out, its feasting on your brain.

Come back to the idea
that we are what we do
the truth is formed in impact
while lies are born in truth.
If time must be our guide
and fate is but a slave,
the hours here awake and old
dig out a hollow grave

Hands, hands, hands
too much to fade, away...
crooked smiles, beaded eyes
in filth we lay.
Stripped to skin,
where do we end or begin?
Lost, unsaved; fall depraved,
no innocence remains.

Slaves to the Moment (Vertigo...go)

In prosperity we were subjugated to the rhythm of experience; memories dehydrated and observations consumed. The magic and freedom of the now felt so sacred in contrast to all the other joyous and forgotten triumphs of what might be referred to as the life we've lived. It seemed that this cluster fuck of insoluble and impossibly detached moments in space and in time were now pulled to the surface, vibrating in chorus by the light of the moon.

Some would have wanted to collect these shards of having had, to eternally 'be' in the circumstances they reflectively deified. The others choose to instead dance among these swinging wind chimes of fates past, rippling on the waves of their momentum. We gyrate in this vacuum of realizations and reaction; its never coming back, its never slowing forward.

The heart's gave up their blood as sacrifice, the words fell like balloons in rebellion against gravity. The LOVE found symbiosis and ate away my resistance to being more than an individual perspective lost in the tempest of such gorgeous and supple intelligences.

The thoughts ripped me in, fighting: 'I broke forth into the night with the grasp of a clever bear in the skin of my temple. A smile met the darkness of lights spinning circles, the stars rocked like an infant on a mother's bosom. By default I was open palmed, soul exposed behind thick glass so that you can watch me feed it.'

It was given, received, and multiplied. Rebirth reborn into the womb of consciousness, it floated onward...

Oh, there can be no conclusion to such introductions. I am there now, and may never have been. I reach forth into the night and grasp only this paint-splattered apartment that is so blank in contrast to this symbol-bound keyboard. The letters jump between the emptiness to tell you the lies of the past and the truth of the future.

And only one thought cannot disintegrate solemnly in recollection; I love you.