Behold, a silly man
Talking and walking in the mud
Wishing away the voices that haunt him
I know, talking to oneself is surely vain.
Yet there is hope
In this silly man,
Lost he is in the forays of his heart renewed,
Sunken treasure lays deep within his soul.
One cannot reason away the butterflies
He sees in the remnants of an unseen wave,
Gone and forgotten is he when he goes silent,
Never known to have risen beyond his means.
Yet there is sweet rebirth for this silly man,
Love forever squishing between his toes,
The sound of waves pounding just beneath the waterline,
Her hand touches him right there.
Remember when this silly man,
Had forgotten what to do?
He lost himself in the end of time,
Uncertain and begotten in the trenches.
What laughter spills from his thirsty lips?
His kindred walks intently across the room.
He smiles, my god he loves this vision so,
Forever lost as his ship crashes on the rocks of love.
Near drowning, he stumbles on the shores,
Like a drunken fighter who’s fought one too many rounds,
He stumbles, falls, his laugher echoes to the sea,
His kindred walks intently across the room.
His mind feels weak as he tries to rise once again,
Time, where did it all decide to go?
He calls out to her, there is thunder down the river,
Is she hears him he knows naught as his eyes close against the tide.
In a dream, he no longer seems so silly,
She runs to him, her longing dragging on the floor,
He catches her and there is hope within the palm leaves,
“Look” he says at two sets of footprints in the sand.
It is lost on those so ready and so tempted,
The cost of watching as the sands of time flow by,
But for the silly man, may he always keep her laughing,
Even as his kindred walks intently across the room.