Funny, you never end up,
Where you expect to begin.
What you loved at the goodbye
You awake loving again.
I have lived sequential lives,
Overwhelmed a steady mind
With words of no consequence,
Words too true and too unkind.
Blooms passed through my fingertips;
I refused to grasp their stems.
Now I’ve crushed tender petals,
Both clasp and cast become sin.
Born from the coffin, my eyes
Are still blinking at new light.
Fresh beginnings are not fresh,
But they can bring fresh insight.
I can’t see that far just yet.
My friends are foreign lands,
The song repeats, the new hello,
The call to bloom where planted.
A good day with sun baked skin,
Laughter, merriment, the past
Lies dead in The Graveyard-
The ultimate outcast.
Still, I hear a distant tune,
Sounds of surf, and midnight communion.
I have no concept of home
Outside of that reunion.
viewingcamelot 
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