Golden bars make no less a prisonthan a coffin on a hill.And in caged reformation,one wanders aimless still.The rafters now a recollectionof sacred suppression.How the morning dawnstrikes mourning confession.Now Death yields a harvestof the living masses.We walk toward its pathno earthly power surpasses.

A pebble thrown in a poolmay ripple from end to end,but tossed into the sea,it is swallowed by enormity.

Some say the ocean roars,I hear it ever weeping.Weep, ocean, weep for those gone before.Weep, O sea, for the open graves that fill your shore.

If only I had feathered wings,that could bend and curve and reach,beyond imagined dreams,unhindered by the weight of earth.

I long to drift through turquoise skies;race the wind in rampant flight.Ruddy chains have framed my eyes,they seize my heart and stain the light.

Peace is not found in the sea.It is found when I dream of eternity.

But with what wonder has the season come?Its treasure lies in earthen ships,that carry dreams across the foam.And how your memory of Sarah rapesthe fleshly heart that once bore scenes,now veiled in smoky stains of tears;it cries as on its crutches leans,and ever fills itself with fears.Be born anew to taste the skyLay waste cocoon and upwind fly.

Wander with intentinto a garden glorious.Walk with double briskupon edenic paths.Flee the cursing fearthat lights upon your eye.Seize the twisted dreamthat strangles earth and sky.

In freedom you form in utter disgrace,the bars of my prison this night.While you drift on currents of seraphim heights,it is I who deserve to take flight.

To your simple existence, do not boast;merely to breathe or move or think is not to live.The shore of the sea is but a ghost,compared to the depth its wholeness gives.You exist in the miry foam;make the ocean depths your home.