The storm is brewing. I smell it in the air. I am panicking. I can barely breathe. I fear this tempest

Water ever seeks it’s perfect peace, from mountain heights to scattered oceans deep. So too our spirit follows

You play your cards so well. Looks like you’ve had a lot of pra… You seem to have a thorough grasp of all the rules of the game. As you cover every angle,

The old man, who thinks he’s dying, approached me with these words. I am sorry

Who’s gonna throw my pitiful ashes into the holy mother Ganges? Who’s gonna hold it as their sacre… Who’s gonna know the need for this… I’ve seen so many nameless shadows

My father is dead, still he speaks through me; “Don’t say anything....OR ELSE!… There was plenty of “OR ELSE!” to go around.

How does a landed mariner ever tell a living soul about the exquisite rapture of the sultry siren’s song ? As it echoed through the mist,

Time wears away at me, like water on a stone, oh, so slowly, but inevitably, drop by drop,

I stole myself away from thee and me, for love of sweet Mary Jane.

Within this pilgrim’s soul exists a hungry beggar waif, who can never afford a moment of indifference or distraction. Alert to every aching nuance

I come to the village well today, though without a need to drink. My worldly thirst now quenched, with home and hearth supplied. I am here to fill a deeper vessel

These words I cry do not come easily; as if they echo from the cold stone depths of a long forgotten tomb.