Dawn-Gazer

I am the nature of fear That every mortal feels me near, I lurk beyond the pale That prays on strong and frail; Listen well to my patient call, Can't you feel your eyelids fall? How long have I waited for you sleep, While waiting in veiled corner keep, To take you and your heat, And feast upon your supple meat. Know this now, that I am near, Feel my breath behind your ear, Feel your chest begin to heave, For you your parents will grieve. Do not wail and do not weep, It's time for you to go to sleep; Come with me now, let us fly, Close your eyes, prepare to die.

The swaying reeds, Bear witness to it; The final leaf. The laughing stars, Behind silver clouds, Echo in the dark. The gentle prayers, Songs of heaven's light; Dust motes softly fall. Silver moonlight, Framed in the water, The splashing koi. The driving rain, Cleansing my thoughts; Thunder.

On the line, Between night and day; Is where I'm destined to be, A wanderer with no home. Between night and day, Home is but a dream; A wanderer with no home, I walk the tranquil dunes. Home is but a dream. On this road of life, I walk the tranquil dunes; My path is my own. On this road of life, Is where I'm destined to be; My path is my own. On the line.

The cutting wind, The roaring tide, I just breathe.

The water pulses; I look down and see-- Murky waters.

I'm in no hurry to change, If I grew to fast-- wouldn't that be strange! Consider the flower, see it grow? I think it's best both nice and slow.

Flowing down river; The water yells and rages, Then is quiet. Resting in shade, The sun strikes my body, My soul departs. A dove soars, Carrying a soul up; Farwell, my love. Life flies by Like the clouds up high, Here , then gone. Spring of my youth, Full of awe and fear, Soon to fade. All by myself; Like the thawing tide, Love sets me free. Quiet and peaceful night, Give me this one reprieve, To sleep well tonight. Life is trying, But filled with laughter; Papa, I miss you.

When I look outside, Blossoms gently fall In a cascade of coral tide. Warm winds gently brush, The window's frigid blush, Softly rocking a bird's sapling crib And delighting it to sing. The sun winks between somber clouds, And reaches with an august hand, To paint with a gilded brush, The face of the hospital. Though I cannot hear them, Prayers float gently to heaven all around me, Like the crippled sighs of battered souls; Their love, and family yearning, Fills my heart to full.

It was time for the Prom. You know the Prom I'm talking about. The Senior Prom. Yeah. Just reading it makes you imagine the golden sparkles and crappy pink confetti doesn't it? It's the things movies and kid's shows are inexplicably made of, as well as quite a few memories. Some of them even good! If you'll notice, most of these bad memories had to do with two things, and they all had to do with one simple fact: Clothes. You heard me. Do you remember your Senior Prom? Of course you don't, you stud you, you were too busy out back with that lovely lady mi rite? But what about the rest of us? Those too uncultured or uncivilized to be used to w

It waits for me, In a sinister guise, It is sanity's final fall; One day I shall go to it. In a sinister guise, Called the quiet night; One day I shall go to it, This mindless thing. Called the quiet night This horrible thing, This mindless thing, Shall one day take me. This horrible thing, It need not be said Shall one day take me, The soul of solitude. It need not be said, It is sanity's final fall, The soul of solitude; It waits for me.