Do you not know me
this figure that so obscures your world
Yet here in the fathomed depth seems
To be somehow your voice.
Are the years so dimmed to your perception
that you neither recall the fabricated self
Hold upon the last morsel of that dream
That once as a youth you bore.
My face a linger doubt within you
Yet here does my soul not speak
More clearer to the perception
that truth that I know within you feared
Am I to be or not in this game
where words entangle. enshrine and hold
all lass, that you are of me , I of you
have you not seen it
been given the light of day
Shall you flee the perception
Cloud the way that in truth
Here before you, would set you free.
You know my words, my heart
I don't gather myself in shrouds
but lay open like that fresh sweet wind
The story of the morrow, a dream that is yet to spring
Have you the will. that want, desire
To share a harmony that is God sent
or shall I too, drift the boundaries waiting
Another time, another place with you.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph