into the night

 

rush out into the night and there are stars
spangling the sky and deepening the dark
marking the time when we have to embark

such times we have remind us of those jars
the dogs that launch themselves with fierce bark
rush out into the night and there are stars

each way we look we see the rigid bars
choices before us seem evil and stark
life places upon each its smudgy mark
rush out into the night and there are stars

at the bump of story

at the bump of story and rawest fact
so many angles to break up the light
not one of you can handle it with tact

the mechanism is what we all had lacked
but chances we will win still remain slight
at the bump of story and rawest fact

you thought you won but found you had been sacked
and were thrown out quite helpless in the night
not one of you can handle it with tact

the crisis peaks right when you are attack
edit's very hard to struggle through the blight
at the bump of story and rawest fact

replace the name and still the thing is cracked
what once was black cannot just be turned white
not one of you can handle it with tact

you stood up once and you were swiftly smacked
it does not matter that you had the right
at the bump of story and rawest fact
not one of you can handle it with tact

fighting kind

 not owed to chance but to the deeper view
of where to go and how to cast the die
what goes to past or future in the eye
will pass without a note from white to blue
eager to calm more eager to renew
the charge to argue what we might apply
to those not happy with the open lie
a breath is taken in the rising dew
tragic the marvel of the choice denied
by those who see the mountain as a wall
not as a challenge to the glowing mind
nor the fit target of the youthful pride
there is a thing that keeps their hearts too small
and they do not respect the fighting kind

what the villain said

 

so many visions held within each head
no chance to tell them all within the hour
you get your chance to play into the red

the truly evil will poison your bread
if you allow them one small chance at power
so many visions held within each head

another kind will fill the pipes with lead
and claim that you have emptied out the tower
you get your chance to play into the red

for your fool sake so many fools have bled
and they turn out to be just one more shower
so many visions held within each head

the shrub you watered with your tears is dead
dust fills what should have been a happy bower
you get your chance to play into the red

you walk a league and find courage has fled
someone will come the passages to scour
so many visions held within each head
you get your chance to play into the red

a second's brief concern

 you choose the path and march without a turn
that's all it takes to show how you are made
to go without a second's brief concern

others might have a lot to teach or learn
aware of what is coming down the grade
you choose the path and march without a turn

we watch the water swiftly steam and churn
then take our place in the open arcade
to go without a second's brief concern

far off in the fast-growing beds of fern
small animals will know to be afraid
you choose the path and march without a turn

a purpose set to work and so to earn
not gold or silver but the ends of trade
to go without a second's brief concern

no simple fire yet in each heart must burn
a flame that guides us on the last parade
you choose the path and march without a turn
to go without a second's brief concern

one golden dawn

 

perhaps we'll get to see one golden dawn
the shape of things not turned into a pain
worlds not destroyed for temporary gain
a light the glow of which we will not scorn
such things as we have dreamt since we were born
a cleansing of the old and noisome stain
an effort not expended all in vain
an honest oath that shall not be forsworn
so that the truth be told and hate be scorned
we face the fire and say the words of praise
before the altars of the silent god
these are the matters honest unadorned
that will be with you to the final days
when we're forgotten underneath the sod