Post by floetryspades on Sept 3, 2008 13:01:51 GMT -8
Shades of eclipsed moonlight
in serenaded conversation
with the windows down, the music's high
and handsome
and your hair's in the rhythm
of a seductive breeze
On a dark stage with your stand-up comedy
your soliloquy a spoken diary
where your words lived to their full potential
within every page
And those words will cast you a shade
if you forever live in their shadow
if you live within their particle of dust, before the dust settles
and slips through the cracks of your hand
because your dreams are a fine sand
lost within the hourglass of your mind,
and the slow ebb of time
pushes them further out of your reach
You create this harmony
as you shyly embrace
the eclipse
of the silhouette outside your window
like a lyrical virtuoso
you're swinging from a star
you're the parallels of a horizon
the axis within a symmetry of dust
and love has slipped through the cracks of your hand
like the remnants of a dream
And the preludes left uninspired
in the alleyway chorus of stray cats
somewhere in the fifth scene of the third act
where the theory of music is compromised
to accommodate a lover who's easy on the eyes
and who gave you a dream
.... until you woke up ...
Until you put in a prayer request
for a falling star, or a shady eclipse
some shrouded miracle behind a thick cloud
that you can't even see, but you're forced to appreciate
Dreams and goals coalescing
in cognitive dissonance
you can never tell the difference, between the two
rather if your accomplishment
was a birthright
was it guaranteed,
or did you take small steps to succeed?
are you afloat within the realm of reality,
or is your road lost to enchantment?
are your feet planted firmly in the ground
have they taken root?
You had goals that were never pursued,
yet you wonder why
your words lived to their full potential in your diary,
but your dreams never came to fruition
in serenaded conversation
with the windows down, the music's high
and handsome
and your hair's in the rhythm
of a seductive breeze
On a dark stage with your stand-up comedy
your soliloquy a spoken diary
where your words lived to their full potential
within every page
And those words will cast you a shade
if you forever live in their shadow
if you live within their particle of dust, before the dust settles
and slips through the cracks of your hand
because your dreams are a fine sand
lost within the hourglass of your mind,
and the slow ebb of time
pushes them further out of your reach
You create this harmony
as you shyly embrace
the eclipse
of the silhouette outside your window
like a lyrical virtuoso
you're swinging from a star
you're the parallels of a horizon
the axis within a symmetry of dust
and love has slipped through the cracks of your hand
like the remnants of a dream
And the preludes left uninspired
in the alleyway chorus of stray cats
somewhere in the fifth scene of the third act
where the theory of music is compromised
to accommodate a lover who's easy on the eyes
and who gave you a dream
.... until you woke up ...
Until you put in a prayer request
for a falling star, or a shady eclipse
some shrouded miracle behind a thick cloud
that you can't even see, but you're forced to appreciate
Dreams and goals coalescing
in cognitive dissonance
you can never tell the difference, between the two
rather if your accomplishment
was a birthright
was it guaranteed,
or did you take small steps to succeed?
are you afloat within the realm of reality,
or is your road lost to enchantment?
are your feet planted firmly in the ground
have they taken root?
You had goals that were never pursued,
yet you wonder why
your words lived to their full potential in your diary,
but your dreams never came to fruition
Good to hear from you again. 
