| Dreaming Lost in the Night |
Carry me gently into night
where lie in wait the quiet ones,
who pounce upon a man in flight
from where his darkness comes
Imagination and the mind
conjure all the errors grown,
in daily searches of his plight
while in sleep he always moans
Toss and turn in secret keeps
the gargoyles of his thoughts,
look upon the man who seeks
consumed by wars he fought
His cries unheard in solitude
while next to him does rest,
a maiden singing sweetest tunes
her hand upon his breast
His heart skips beats as it pounds
while running from the beasts,
who relentlessly hunt him down
without escape within his sleep
His screams unheard within her ears
the journey walked all alone,
he’s drowning in a sea of fear
helpless in places unknown
Cornered without a chance or path
to run toward even when blind,
four walls have captured this lost lad
his secrets much maligned
Saving grace does not come forth
nor morning’s calming light,
surrounded by no feeling of warmth
filled with yearning for flight
Where might one go to escape
the life he lives and must entwine,
as burdens approach on every face
none painted with a glow divine
Does magic exist to save this man
or fantasy found within – no sin,
where guilt does not offer to stand
to mire the life held deep within
In final moments of desperation
his body all tense and tight,
there is a thought of one last station
where exists a possible light
Turning unto the holy place
where guilt must face its foe,
he reached into the only grace
inside his world so low
Empty it was and empty it is
the last of his depths are reached,
where no answer will ever exist
no way to halt the breach
Swept away this man - no more
to carry on his personal search,
for answers haunting his nightly wars
forever lost in an empty church
Cold is the ground to our lost one
six feet under – and his search is done.
DWHolmes (copyright – 2005)
where lie in wait the quiet ones,
who pounce upon a man in flight
from where his darkness comes
Imagination and the mind
conjure all the errors grown,
in daily searches of his plight
while in sleep he always moans
Toss and turn in secret keeps
the gargoyles of his thoughts,
look upon the man who seeks
consumed by wars he fought
His cries unheard in solitude
while next to him does rest,
a maiden singing sweetest tunes
her hand upon his breast
His heart skips beats as it pounds
while running from the beasts,
who relentlessly hunt him down
without escape within his sleep
His screams unheard within her ears
the journey walked all alone,
he’s drowning in a sea of fear
helpless in places unknown
Cornered without a chance or path
to run toward even when blind,
four walls have captured this lost lad
his secrets much maligned
Saving grace does not come forth
nor morning’s calming light,
surrounded by no feeling of warmth
filled with yearning for flight
Where might one go to escape
the life he lives and must entwine,
as burdens approach on every face
none painted with a glow divine
Does magic exist to save this man
or fantasy found within – no sin,
where guilt does not offer to stand
to mire the life held deep within
In final moments of desperation
his body all tense and tight,
there is a thought of one last station
where exists a possible light
Turning unto the holy place
where guilt must face its foe,
he reached into the only grace
inside his world so low
Empty it was and empty it is
the last of his depths are reached,
where no answer will ever exist
no way to halt the breach
Swept away this man - no more
to carry on his personal search,
for answers haunting his nightly wars
forever lost in an empty church
Cold is the ground to our lost one
six feet under – and his search is done.
DWHolmes (copyright – 2005)
