Monday, October 1, 2007


There's peace in dreams, and terror too-
Sometimes the ghosts will speak
Sometimes they come for company
Sometimes for words unsaid
Sometimes to warn the living
Sometimes to mourn the dead
They come to tell their tales true
And find the dreams they seek


I spread my tracers carefully-
There's five per magazine
My enemy is no giant
No modern day Goliath-
He's just an ordinary man
But still I guard them carefully
My five well-chosen stones
To kill a man like you and me

Growing Up

Once, in my youth, I dreamed
Strange things and stranger place
The inky void above that seemed
To dare my mind to race
To twist the tails of ice and fire
And ride the wind to space
I did not lack then for desire
To see the warring cease
But it took fighting in the mire
To grant those dreams their lease
In my youth I dreamed of younger things
But now, I dream of peace.