choices

The object of writing is to grow a personality which in the end enables man to transcend art - Lawrence Durrell, Balthazar

Careless abandon forged with self-control
For the land of fairy tales holds devils and foes
Yet the land of the living holds workers and bread
Oh how can one not let the land of the fairy tales fall from thy head
In the morning it whispers
And in the night departs
Oh how can I keep the dark whispers from my heart

As it strings and abounds with mysteries so great
The black and white ego is fighting my fate
As I whisper slowly and call towards the ghosts of the night
They come and support me
Through the death of the fear

A birth means that someone will come across oceans to guide
And one who will find the blind you
For when one is in the far dark wallowing heart
One must remain there and practice their art

And as I lay quietly and listen for the call
I can not help flying above my head and feeling the pull
For I spent time in this world I must remain
The temptation to slip and the celestial world gain
For though I did find thee
The life I choose tears us apart
How can I keep thee and be faithful to my heart