Play

[Act I]

Can you see all that I am
How I protect by hiding things
As I conceal what is true and build a labyrinth of poetry
Romanticism and melancholy being the bricks and wood
Sadness and joy blooming from the garden of thoughts
Gates mold from letters after another, barriers for the cold realism

[Act II]

Colors of twilight flickering on the wall
Evergreen grass moist by dew
Setting Sun painting everything with purple and red
Making the waters glare with gold
Giving the surrounding world a chance to be beautiful
Even for a moment before it's gone

(Nightbird raises its head, croaking for the crown of sky)

After the Sun's descent
The Moon ascends above us
Resting on its throne as a nocturnal queen
Hearing the cries of woeful hearts, how their troubles are untold
Witnessing how secrecies unfold
During the night's silent hours
The wind blows through leaves of trees
Gaia singing the lullabies for those who are unrest
And in her solitude she weeps
As a mother for a child that bleeds

[Act III]

(Dawn chorus can be heard, dreamtime is now dispelled)

Morning is greeted by Moon's temporary downfall
Enemies, nay... friends sign their treaty of nychthemerona
The Sun casts its rays upon the waking world
And so dawns the new day
With the magic of nighttime fading away

(We disappear back into present)

Road.

The Sun crowned the scenery serene
Solitary soul drummed the wheel
Tires burned asphalt underneath
Power lines, lonely houses and lamp-posts

They kept leaving behind.  

The War

I've never been off to a war before
It's my first tour and I'm already missing the home
We are told to shoot a man of different view
Tearing apart what is already askew

Strangest thing to see
Is a barbed wire separating us from the no-man's-land
It's unwise to stand with head up they tell
But why is it so easy to climb over the highway bridge's rail and face the hell

Icaros had wings and desired to be free
Yet the friend of mine couldn't see
The man on the mirror, who he wanted to be
Said he needed to feel like flying
Lot didn't suspect he'd found solace by dying

Today I heard old Tim's going to have a poor burial
As for outsiders our war seemed so trivial
Wonder when we're going to hear the next call
Who gets the honor of being first to climb over the wall