Leaving the known for the unknown
Choosing demons over angels
To ride on the path of sculptured dreams
The path where the dead resurrect
And fallen heroes long to serve again.
Maybe there’s an awakening of tunes
A rise in melodious incantations
A high toppling of gracious music
That celebrates the fading evening
Of undecided sanctimony.
Perhaps the sky is only a lonely fellow
Who threatens aspiring climbers
Perhaps the showers are only tears
That rise like a well in the cloud’s eyes
To shoot softly the tune of hope.