A Parable
I look around the room enlightened with
Distant and present flashes of Colors and what a rush
The breath of time, and passing seconds and the things I call my dreams
And I am
Everlasting and temperate
On the highest treetop’s branches there nests a bird with hatchlings
And a sane man calls to them from below for his lost sanity
His heart bleeds out dried blood
His eyes cry with dried tears and his mouth screams with a silent voice
His ears are deaf to the music playing
And he doesn't realize that life is an everlasting force
He considers his mountain tops
Painted with melancholy and doom
And a world parchment and therein there is gloom
He sees rich hands taking in fortune
And poor one's taking shame
He needs their torment, their torture and their fame
He walks on nails beside a road paved with gold
He says he has failed when he knows he hasn't done so
Inside he is dead, after having just been born
He is tired and awake and indeed he has been torn
He plants his seeds in fields, rocky with sand
And he reaps before his crop is even sown; seed in hand
Beside a rich farm land overflowing with honey and wheat
He had condemned himself, after he had been unknown
He has lost himself in loathing
The hatchlings turn to him in chorus
They smile upon him but he has lost his eyes in the forest
He has fallen down the wrong path, going the wrong way
If he could just remember how to laugh he'd know how to forget that pain
If he could remember to smile, he'd know how to hear them calling his name
If he could remember the Colors, then his eyes would surly follow
In love he could believe in his own and make real the love he had borrowed
He could charm all of time
And a magical guide would lead him to all tomorrow
And piece of mind
Distant and present flashes of Colors and what a rush
The breath of time, and passing seconds and the things I call my dreams
And I am
Everlasting and temperate
On the highest treetop’s branches there nests a bird with hatchlings
And a sane man calls to them from below for his lost sanity
His heart bleeds out dried blood
His eyes cry with dried tears and his mouth screams with a silent voice
His ears are deaf to the music playing
And he doesn't realize that life is an everlasting force
He considers his mountain tops
Painted with melancholy and doom
And a world parchment and therein there is gloom
He sees rich hands taking in fortune
And poor one's taking shame
He needs their torment, their torture and their fame
He walks on nails beside a road paved with gold
He says he has failed when he knows he hasn't done so
Inside he is dead, after having just been born
He is tired and awake and indeed he has been torn
He plants his seeds in fields, rocky with sand
And he reaps before his crop is even sown; seed in hand
Beside a rich farm land overflowing with honey and wheat
He had condemned himself, after he had been unknown
He has lost himself in loathing
The hatchlings turn to him in chorus
They smile upon him but he has lost his eyes in the forest
He has fallen down the wrong path, going the wrong way
If he could just remember how to laugh he'd know how to forget that pain
If he could remember to smile, he'd know how to hear them calling his name
If he could remember the Colors, then his eyes would surly follow
In love he could believe in his own and make real the love he had borrowed
He could charm all of time
And a magical guide would lead him to all tomorrow
And piece of mind
