THE FORMS

The forms you take
           be countless

I see you in the eyes of babes
I see you in the dark of day
I see you in the heat of passion
I see your image catching

a reflection of desire
In the depths of a mire
In the Mountains of the Ancient
In the Valleys of the Vacant

I see you in the TV screen
I see you in the In-between
of the two extremes I dream of
Methinks they call it Love

Your face - The Art of Perfection
The Perfection of the Art
When I look into, I do see through
the end and to the start

that seems to never cease
that echoes in the trees
that whispers in the wind
the dreaded price of sin

We believe in being free
Believe in our captivity
A myth of thought, to think we're caught
Producing instability

This is the One of whom I've warned
myself and others which we've been torn
The Static that will never die
Our final chance to rectify