Hand down the bottle,
To the one they call the soul...

Plunging into serene aquatic clouds,
Silence; Echoing watery essence...

Little child tell me,
What's your favorite color...

Wisps of color flirt with may,
Bestowing prismatic crowns to barren hilltops...

Everyone needs to feel this way,
This burning sensation, oh I must convey...

Pale shadows fall on spaces
long lost to bitter words...

Walking on broken glass,
Isn't it the same as love...

Insanity swims
In the depths of my soul...

Sitting here with the same pen,
Writing words I've seen to many times...

Black clouds hover,
Never to reveal...

The clouds blew over
the bright morning sky...

It's always been this way,
at least that's what I remember...