A dark poem of touring, depths, and celtic, holding fear, fracture and survival in view.
February 25, 2004Early Notebooks
Touring the depths of a celtic night,
where shadows spin in fractured light.
Pink skies burn with shades of blue,
echoes tremble—old but new.
Hazy figures dance in line,
a masquerade where secrets twine.
Funky killers smile and grin,
beneath their masks, the chaos spins.
Chasing dreams in whispered tones,
sifting through the broken bones.
The future’s haze, a murky veil,
pulls me deeper down the trail.
Stitches break and seams unwind,
I’m lost in mazes of my mind.
Grasping at the fading light,
a twilight song, a cosmic flight.
The angels laugh, the demons cheer,
waltzing through the haze of fear.
A single spark ignites the dark—
a journey ends where it embarked.
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