A Feast Of Consequences

He met her; she had me, spiraling ribbons, cut the cord away The twists of life the knots of dreams, this was before the great unraveling. In time no strings attached so wild and free, No ties to bind, a world before us We threaded hopes within the t

When the zephyrs pulse the sails I feel the tiller in my fingers, Feluccas dancing, flirting on the swollen Nile, Slowly touch the distance the meniscus of horizons a shimmering mirage across the desert sands. I follow silken threads in coral caves i

In the gnawing bite of winter; the winds, bone chilling, howl Pale skies of swirling snowflakes lay a shroud upon the ground To a scarred and shattered landscape some brief dignity is shown Where the dead remain unburied on the dark and blood-stained

In the cornfields speckled poppies glow in a twilight, moving shadows, From the High Wood the reaper walks, a harvest to be gathered, The skylark's solo fateful cry, the hares alert now scattered, The pheasant raised by beating drums in a field prepa

There were no sirens, I heard no alarms, This situation has somehow got completely out of hand. It's no illusion; it's not a dream, My eyes are open and all is as appears, It's a perfect nightmare; it's a perfect nightmare, In an imperfect world I mi