Reading, weaving
Moving out of my recession
Back into the slipstream
The twisted world I’m not ready to give up on
And you are at the heart of the matter
A core of fire
Ice is melting
Which mannerly devotion shows in this? *
Can I not title that which has no name?
But is merely my reflection
Souls and faces
Sardonic smiles
Watching my path
Everywhere I turn
Roads leading back
Dreams
Flashing, skipping through
Round, round again
Perceptive flashing
The music’s only there for me
Goodnight, Mr Shakespeare
Parting is such sweet sorrow *
That I shall say good night till it be morrow *
Be it Venus and Adonis?
That only time will tell, though trust stays faithful
Living, breathing
The first shuddering breath in months
Though it feels like years washing over the scars
Mountains, oceans
He jests at scars that never felt a wound *
Disjointed, disconnected
But the poetry’s there
Showing reflections of my disordered mind
Can you see between the lines?
Can you draw the parallels?
Line up the worlds, line up the words
Will you understand this?
Do you need to?
Is it enough to stay your bating blood?
Or will the door to my soul remain unopened?
Questions, questions
The key is in the answers
And the answers are in the questions
Poems and plays
Past and now
Why?
1...21 guns
The question is, will you?
Music weaving words
Into a language only I understand
But you can see
As I turn the page
Lay the star-crossed lovers to rest
And for Egypt
The king hath sent- *
Too slow a messenger. *
Communication is of the essence
And so I take the words
Take the lyrics
Close the book
Breathe again...
*Taken from Shakespeare's works, no copyright infringement intended
