calculus and cheese cake

The hypnotic hush of crashing tides will take me back to you,
So I keep the safest distance from these tides I’ve come to rue,
If the setting sun and northern star will raise an eye to me,
I’ll whisper lies and sever ties, your sunsets I shall flee...

But then wiser men will whisper, that the stars are here for good,
So hired gnomes will snatch my recall; hired gnomes that can and should!
These simple measures, time and tide, are waves on crying sands,
And these pictures etched in fickle clay are prone to slights of hand.

I ask myself on nights retreating, is this the boy that I once knew?
Is he subsumed by his surroundings? Is he waiting on some cue?
Can he hear his inner voices or is he reading off your script?
Has he resigned to whims of angels or is he still Mohican ripped?

So if the spoils should lay before you, I’ll be a martyr to your cause,
Untimely death so unbecoming.... and for effect I’ll take this pause. (pause for effect)
Yes life itself has been quite humbling for the boy who lost his muse,
But if I could, for just a moment, let me explicate my views...

If these stars should burn much brighter, if they should take me back to you,
Then I’ll embrace each dying ember in this sky of satin blue,
If the waves that whisper softly, whisper you with every heave,
Then I’ll stand till next December, I’ll stand till you believe...
And if these setting suns should tear me apart, with each impassioned hue,
Then I am your constellation, and I’ll remind myself of you...

Noon - Dec 2010.