Re: Dreamsongs: A Collection of Lyrical Ballads
by grindael » Sat Apr 02, 2016 7:57 pm
i. crying
There is an emptiness inside of me
deeply staining my soul,
sealed within my consciousness
before the stars were old.
I have wandered along forgotten roads
for a taste of Paradise,
and known the burdens of this mortal life
from which so many have died.
And my spirit is crying.
My spirit is crying,
it’s crying, crying.
I have found through this emptiness
no reason for me to be,
for all my pathways have been meaningless:
there is nothing more I need to see.
But the benefits of loneliness
are the strangeness of my dreams.
In my dreams I am crying.
In my dreams I am crying,
I’m crying, crying.
I can’t see beyond this loneliness
in the portents of my dreams,
I can only feel this desperateness
to find out what it means.
But the Guardians of Paradise
have refused my company,
and my spirit has been wandering
searching for a time of peace,
when knowledge returns the innocence
that will make all hatred cease.
But my spirit is dying.
My spirit is dying,
It’s dying, dying.
All the Guardians themselves
cannot give these things to me,
still I have felt in them the emptiness
measured in painful degrees,
for a world that has been dangerous
to one who is so weak.
And though I’ve seen the gates of Paradise
they are still closed to me.
For I can’t forget the sadness
that put these chains on me,
as the night returns to haunt me
like the broken fire of my dreams.
In my dreams I am crying.
In my dreams I am crying,
I’m crying, crying.
In my dreams I am crying.
In my dreams I am crying.
I’m crying, crying,
crying, crying.
ii. passages
The sun beat down upon me
as I turned to walk away,
and you weren’t yet a memory
when something told me I should stay.
Yet somehow I knew I would
get lost once more to the night.
That pain inside so long withstood
will surface again (again and again)
with the morning’s light.
And the questions buried deep inside
for uncounted years unknown,
will lose their only place to hide
in a mind that is so alone.
As the night returns to haunt me
like the broken fire of my dreams,
until the restlessness will claim me
like the road will claim my feet.
And when I turn and look behind
I look into a troubled mind,
and the cruelty of those memories
like the message of the truth
speaks to me and speaks to you
in the passing of our youth.
And the waking of those memories
like the passing of the years,
speaks to you and speaks to me
in the passing of our tears.
And somewhere in the memories
I keep hoping I can find,
some thread of synchronicity
to soothe my troubled mind.
As I stare again at the city lights
so bright like I long to be,
the restlessness of the night
calls me like the wind calls the leaves.
And somewhere in the tangled feelings
of all my experience,
I focus on some kind of meaning
that slips into forgetfulness.
As the night returns to haunt me
like the broken fire of my dreams,
until the restlessness will claim me
like the road will claim my feet.
But when I turn and look behind
I look into a tortured mind,
and the cruelty of those memories
like the message of the truth,
speaks to me and speaks to you
of the passing of our youth.
And the waking of those memories
like the passing of the years,
speaks to you and speaks to me
in the passing of our tears.
iii. a multitude of sins
Between the time it takes
one season to change to another,
you can live a whole lifetime
while the leaves change their colors.
Sometimes, that is all you get.
And if it still hasn’t hit you yet,
your life is over.
You’re just not dead.
On the outside.
Between the time it takes
one person to change their mind,
you can live or you can die
or just run out of time.
Sometimes, that all that there is.
And if you never saw it comin’
well, time reveals a multitude of sins.
On the inside.
iv. another passage?
I was a bright star
in the morning sky,
trailing clouds of glory:
immortal spirit
wrapped in this body.
So I once believed…
Crying for lost innocence,
brought down by corruption
of the flesh.(LDS, LDS)
Waiting once more
for the veil to be rent.
I was a bright star
long before my fall,
searching for answers:
descending angel
clutching keys to lost doors.
All I might achieve…
Crying for lost innocence
brought down by corruption
of the flesh.(LDS, LDS)
Waiting once more
for the veil to be rent.
Here at this journey’s end.
~fini~
Riding on a speeding train; trapped inside a revolving door;
Lost in the riddle of a quatrain; Stuck in an elevator between floors.
One focal point in a random world can change your direction:
One step where events converge may alter your perception.
