There are things I cannot tell,
things of heaven, things of hell.
this parliament of love and truth,
this complement, just me and you.

I am weary of this time,
of this harness, of this mind,
this clouded soul is shredded bare,
my mind’s diseased, enraptured air.

These cogs, they turn to crooked time,
This body fights to free it’s mind,
this darkness ends this parlor light,
it howls and screams into the night.

Hear the wicked thunder swell,
this water bodes a deeper knell,
resounding through the landlocked tires,
dampen hopes into desires.

Still this man does as he will,
a speck of sunlight standing still,
Through frozen wrath and endless pain,
He’ll stand his ground with hope insane.

And though his steed may mow him down,
maim his body, take his crown,
and though he’ll soon become the earth,
and his sins follow him from his birth,

he’ll hold his heart right to his chest,
struggle through his every test,
and think, every second of his fall,
I hope I’ve won the biggest test of all.

Queens Quay, Toronto 31 May 2011