arcana

deep beneath the soothing dirt
of barren lands, the lizard sleeps
and far from green and noisy strands
his quiet, lonely vigil keeps

he knows the silence of the dust
and how the heat drives men to drink
and why the wind said that we must
and what the passing beetles think

so while we shuffle through the sand
arriving where we'd rather not
the lizard understands
the sun is hot

* ****** **** ****** *

see "one more time, my hot little lizard"

go on

wrapped in rage
inspiring hate
a weary soul
defying fate

i live on rage
i live on hate
i live, they die
that's what's so great

as long as i survive
i win
only surrender
is a sin

growing older growing colder

evening falls and clouds obscure
the vision i once had of life
to struggle is no kind of cure
for pain which flourishes in strife

the darkness and the growing chill
of summers end and ages rush
is only one more pill to crush

its harder every day to see
the me i once thought i could be

and yet the closer that it comes the less i want to reach the end