Years of silence how much I need you now,
Years of joy how much I never had you.
In years long gone, forever to be lived
Never was I happy, never was I not.

But trays of silica walk in at all times,
Without explaining the meaning that lies
Beyond their components –
Which happen to rain in me,
Like silver and screams,
Or a silence that sings
In my ears –

It clinks.
It clinks and it clinks.
It will clink for more years
To come.
Till death burns the son
That brought me to life
The same day that I died.

I shall live in hell,
Or else he will, he’ll bring me the tears that I never had,
That I never will.
Cursed be the child, ablaze as the sun –
Right from within, wrong from without.
Cursed be the child, that slashed me in half,
That waited no more for my tinges of bore.
Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.


Something’s changing,
Waters are rippling again.
I can’t quite reach my image anymore
I hold the stream with my long narrow hands, but the grip isn’t masterful enough.

Something’s missing,
It’s the future and I know it.
But still the waters run, they teach me
Knowing isn’t commanding, better to wait and run.

Something’s moving
My pupils, contracted to a pinpoint,
Offended by sun’s projection on things.
No, I can’t see things,
Not with that light,
To move in transparent darkness, the medium of dreams, that is where I strive.


From all the beating,
From all the beating,
From all the beating,
From all the beating,
A new ventricle was open,
And space for more blood,
Gushing, filling a heart that was once broken,
Worn out and taken.

If only I knew the path to reconciliation
Was this exact one,
I would have made it mine.
But you can’t see the land you stand on,
If bending makes you cry
To the point of sleeping,
And dreaming in the seas that drown your eyes.

I was once weary,
At the beginning of all this.
I was once no one,
At the beginning of this all.
To now be of skin and bone,
Is the gift of the only God,
To whom I build a shrine.
Such grace to know
That even I,
even I,
even I,
even I
could divine.