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a distant breeze gives life to the remains of yesterday.
dust and leaves dance all over.
yet they still dance together.

you turn to see the alley where once friends used to haunt.
yet now, you see friends amongst tragedy, deceit and plot.

in your intoxicated heart, you pray for the messiah to come in any shape and form.
and you turn to see johnny amongst enemies. the messiah reformed.

so as they scream time to close, you tighten your grip on your glass of Gin and T.
for you know, its time to come is near. the monster known to many as reality.

so you sit outside the temple which is always close never closed,
you see the care taker who breathes fire, his eyes judge yet never surprised.

your walk home in silence is in solemn prayer for the death of the day.
the breeze holds your hand and joins you in your walk.

yet, still they dance together.

Saints who Sinned

You stand there all jaded yet glistening youth shimmers of you.
And i stand gasping for air.
Such tales of saints who sinned have been mere myths.
My scares give me strength thru rage, yours gives you immortality.
In my moment of glory, i am humbled by you admiring my apparent greatness.
Now i know, God is not up there where mortals plant dreams, he is among us.

In every prayer born out of misery.
Deep within the very vein of those who can never cry.
Reach out you say, and lay down you shield of arrogance.
I am not afraid you whisper, for what you perceive as greatness,
Sits in my palm humbled by the generations of saints who sinned.

Sham to my friends.

Son to my Mother.

Shahrman to God.