So distant are my eyes now,
their focus far away.
Pensive are my eyes now
but at least now I can say.
...
If I knew for sure I'd never see you again,
I would breathe but not be alive.
For all the air that would fill my lungs
would never have me thrive.
...
This page on which I sketch my words
will hold the scent of me.
The powerful aroma of Opium
is my personal identity.
...
Can you hear how she sings her song
and how it contents her so?
Can you tell when she sings it
where it has her go?
...
If I never had you for a day
and only for an hour,
I could let it lengthen in my mind
and find in me the power
...
Writing poetry and writing music
and the creation of the rhyme
fills my days but not my heart
and allows for the passage of time.
...
She left me and my world just died.
She left me and all the tears I cried
could never bring her back to me.
And so inside I felt empty.
...
Shall we make a song for all man's sins
that no one wants to hear?
Shall we sing it loud and boisterous,
sing it loud and clear?
...
A thought crept into my mind today
and stayed there much too long.
I could not rid myself of it,
the power of it much too strong.
...