Friday, September 3, 2010

New Lenses

Some twist of fate
Covered in time
Inside the forest
Could be hidden a crime

Unable to speak
Unable to see
Never my thought
Misuse of a plea

What a coil
Of distilled spirit
Holding the lid
On the unsung lyric

The purest of nectar
Never to be told
Possibility of truth
fits in the same mold

Silken cord around
The throat of the past
Hands burn from
The tension at last

The same follies
Of childhood dreams
Could have a twin
of muffled screams

One doesn't always
Travel Alone
Sometimes fog
Sings the same tone

So I release the noose
new lenses conspire
Seeing what was
Singed by the same fire

Raven

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