Though I've Called Your Name A Thousand Times, My Words Are Blown Back

Into My Face. The Wind Makes My Skin Harder Still. The Clouds Race By

Over-head And I Fight To Remain Standing, The Signs Of Endless Journeys

Shows In My Weakened Stance. I Wish For The Ground To Open. I Have Been

Around The World And Back, I Have Re-lived Every Memory, Re-dreamt Every

Dream And Felt Every Touch (again). Still The Clouds Will Race, The Wind

Will Cut And Soon I Will Fall. The Dust Will Form A Mound That Shall Be My

Tomb, Never To Be Whetted By The Tears Of Mourning, Because I Was Lost

Long Ago In A Colder World And Lost You Forever.



I Believe That Each Man Craves The Soul Rejuvenation That, For Centuries,

Authors And Poets Of The World Have Immortalised Through The Written And

Spoken Word. I Believe That Each Man Wishes To Harness The Power Of The

Burning Sun And Rejuvenate The Soul That, For Many Of Us, Lies Dead. I Too

Have Traveled These Paths And Found That Most Lead To A Bare World