What's in my mind, I'll never know, just something beautiful beyond my ability to paint
a deceptive blend of emotion, thoughts, realities, people, events, love, hate
dancing to the rhythms of a world hanging to the edge of madness
like a lost song, a secret art, a forgotten tantra
some things are beautifully tragic beyond understanding
hated, grace, peace, wrath, they dance in forms, moving back and fourth
distraught in their own intricacies, prying through into our lives in the scope of eternity
and in a way it's not my place to describe, because though they pass through me
and around me in fanciful ways
some things are better left untouched, unsaid.
because they belong to the flow of time, searching for the right circumstances
the right form, the right silhouette to simply let themselves be free.