Sickness! I'll hold on...

Sickness, be me!
I can’t bear you so close…
Sickness, free me!
It’s you I chose…

A hundred lies and more,
Each day and every dying dusk,
Plague me, rip me, leave me unsure
Of all but that in you I trust…

Sickness, see me!
I’m blacker than midnight blue…
Sickness, free me!
For all I have is you…

The rivers that winked in the moon
Wink still, but bleed no faith
And the angels that used to swoon
To whims, writhe resting now in wraiths…

So sickness, empty me!
Drink from my deserts of rain…
Sickness, oh sickness, free me!
These shackles only pretend of pain…

Undressed by you I shiver through
Nights that spoke of oneness once…
Naked yet dressed in crimson hues,
I wait in wake of the million suns…

Feel me, my love, feel me till I die
Be there from dawn to dawn
Kiss me, cut me, get me screaming high
To you, undead, and I’ll always hold on…

When the Moonlight Broke Free...

Orphaned earth, dreaming of the moon,
Yearning, wondering where it went so soon,
Sees a flash, of a sudden, and the coming of dawn,
And a young man walking, on and ever on

There’s light, a lot, but just a promise of the sun,
And he’s walking, alone, as just the one
Of a thousand thoughts he’s keeping company—
A thousand that the night can’t seem to see

He’s lost, he knows not where he goes;
He’s tired, he knows it scarcely shows;
For just as a child, clean and yet to be cheated,
He struggles, to win, he’s never been defeated

It’s getting cold, the wind has a chill
And his snowball grows, rolling up the hill;
Heavier, each moment, and just beginning to see
This climb is steeper than any in memory

He’s being what he’s never been;
He’s seeing what he’s never seen;
It’s not done, not yet, but nor is he;
The end to his story is yet to be

He sweats; he wishes his tears to be lost
And he wishes some way he could melt the frost;
Not that the snow is blinding, but it bleeds
And he hates the pain it newly seeds

It’s a challenge, maybe, a wrinkle on his way,
Much like the moonless morning of a sunless day
When you live the dream, and feel the promise
Of a smiling end to the frown there is

Not all, he knows, can always be right
And not always does he wish for a dawn to the night,
But this once, as he walks, he wishes for more;
He hopes he’s still on that side of the door

And as this happens, as the thoughts transpire,
The earth witnesses the likeness of a fire...
The dream comes true, brings home the promise too;
Memory sparks as memories be, and with a whisper, the moonlight breaks free