shadowed nights and slicing moonbeams
opposite the scintillating sun
a kalaidescope of yawning abysses and crystal caverns
my heart skips beats as i recover beautiful memories
that will again be forgotten in the blink of an eye
never again to be remembered
"how can i feel nostalgia for a place i have never known?"
the trip of a lifetime is wasted away
on ghostly letters and invisible ink laced with tears
and the dark smudges of afternoon clouds
stain colored tiles laid for a parallel people who
might as well not exist
can you hear jesus talking now?
lick at the pools of ink
that run down hills to collect at your feet
the blood of a wasted nation
that could have been great
had it not nvented mirrors and day-stars
(that dont even shine that brightly)
not to mention flimsy heroes
bite through skin
flesh
bone
splinters of jagged white shrapnel
exploding suddenly through
shallow lines and undefined fears
that dont stalk through our nightmares
who says destroying is evil?
