At great distances lies the secret to vision without movement Waves crashing in stop-motion—the artist’s strokes slow, deliberate— Press a button and the whole film plays in seconds Millennia compressed to a bite-sized chunk That still manages to get stuck in the throat Though we didn’t need to breathe, anyway.
Ask, and the world will open itself unto you The crystal passages spiraling to the center Catacombs sprawling beneath the busy streets above In light shunned by those who walk these halls.
Are you there, at the edge of vision Just beyond sight, the grass around your body Bent as a servant to a king A voice of the river, breath is the rolling sea...
Staring beyond the depths of the cup in my hands Into a past I long to know The view from atop the boneyard pile Is a steep descent into rolling madness.
A city in the sky, melting into the horizon Nations gather in the harbor, the deep water below Darkness connection the world by sand bars and shipping lanes
Laughing faces on the edge of darkness Twisting in the blue-gold light, the digital glow Eyes are windows into shadow, or mirrors And these cliffs that tumble out of the forest To drown themselves in the raging sea From heights lost to a woolen sky...
A mind lost beneath fire in the sky Stands ready to rave against the coming The stars drone and fall to Earth And the moon cannot bear to watch
The crystal explosion of light Silent and still behind glass Its face to the street Gazing at its own reflection There is a ghost in the corner who longs to smash it
It stares defiant across this crowded room And the faces between us are invisible The barrier of insurmountable time crumbles Walls heaving with the weight of a thousand stories
A red robe discarded, limp and empty on the marble floor The hand that dropped it rests atop a hidden altar And the voices of revellers echo through the halls Where fires once burned, but all is now dark
Point the way to paradise The long road through sunlight. A call in the night of silence Lights the darkness with thought of terror
Eyes unblinking in the hollow of a tree Dead branches reaching out to me Inside the dusk that breathes through the forest. Walk among the pines, light like raindrops on silver needles A nectar not of the gods, forsaken long ago
A band of self-made misfits Standing together in a half-moon Lips wrapped around lit cigarettes With filters packed full of gunpowder—
The lights in the trees hang higher now Soft thrills glow warmly within A song of the night approaching slow Cosmic footsteps unsure of what lies ahead