Fire In the Sky

Fire in the Sky

From his throne of molten gold
The twilight dragon rouses
To breathe white vapor.
Upon the countenance of conquerors
He gifts great ambition and grand dreams.


False Idol

The ghost of who you once were haunts
The bright recesses of my memory
Hung like bare light bulbs in a well-swept attic
Tended to and frequented often
Though I do not take my meals there
Though I do not shower there
Though I do not work there
There is living and there is dreaming
And in that space I am only a creature of the mind
Spinning fables into golden memories
To crown upon your brow in adoration