When We Dead Awaken
Who am I and where do I fit?
I exposed myself wholly and
unreservedly to your gaze
But as once upon a time I was
now time passes me by in a rush
My melancholy, regret, lost youth …
Exposed to your torment … I howl
A pig stealing for beauty’s salvation
The angst of words aren’t enough
So grunts and growls take their place
This betrayal by intended words
Unable to connect to the colossal
Who am I and where is my home?
All muddled, insane, intense, profane
Paramount – yet scandalously singular
This last tango in Paris
Artful and deadly serious
The watcher is a witness
To life’s mad-hatter pageantry
And timeless hatless howl!