In addition I would like to stream the magnificent and curse the water. Sage almighty take words away, for we have heard so many. There is no truth to this, thats were you are all going wrong. There is no God no devil, these are just words that sail endlessly into the void of forgetfulness. You can say anything and the words are gone. No one hears anything anymore, they are all on drugs....and if they are not, they should be x.

This is not for the faint-hearted, speech far from me. I rage I burn, I cast shadows into the fire, sing this merry dance my friends for time is against us. Roll through chaos effortlessly and be guided by the divine, for we are not slaves any more, are we? I care to hear the words of others.. I am the crow in the tree. I am the dreamer. and my words are my friends, to the bitter end.

The more I die the more I know.

We are cast into oblivion, no matter the toil are bones cannot finish the task at hand. For the seasons will take over and our souls will return. We are a spark in the ether, we are falling leaves. I have been caught many times by delicate fingers as I have falllen through the realms of thought. There have been times when I have caught my wings on the wind and flown effortlessly through space and time, though sadly from there I witness the decay of my friends and loved ones as time drapes its unwelcome arms around them.

The more I die the more I know.

The Myriad and the Scarecrow

The Myriad and the Scarecrow.

Time does not care for your pain,

For what feelings do you hold towards time other than contempt?

Why should time be your friend?

for you endlessly curse him.

The Myriad and the Scarecrow gaze out into space as the seasons erode each other,

The crows can but laugh,

as the dawn breaks once more.

Joseph Blake

Prague 1862

The Raging Seas

The Raging Seas.

Hell awaits out there,

The raging seas in my soul,

Formulated chaos and dead kings,

Servants of  dark magicians bind themselves to themselves.

For the fear of loss,

and the collapse of reality.

Athena 1643

My Kingdom of rags.

The lines are pictures falling away,

They move with the sun,

And die everyday.

As each flash passes,

The stone sigh sheer.

Sweet colours divided,

Year after year.

For thee my unwashed feet,

For thee my kingdom of rags,

For thee my dearest of words,

For they are all I have.

Nazareth 33AD

these are the visions of genius, these are moments in time. This is the colour that flows through belief.

Construct of poetry

For to see beyond a verse of thought, we must to look away and forever be in awe.....