The Sail


When! When can we see the stars for what they are?

Constellations causing mutilations of a map in mind and heart.
They change our bearings, and our minds, like whispers in the dark.
Disillusioned, discontent; Spinning in a jar.

It’s getting hot, but he never stops.
It’s getting hot, but he’ll hit the spot.
The stars a map and the map is death.
They were never the same when his innocence left.

He’s been there before, the place on the map.
It draws him still closer…
The spring inside is poison and the waterfall is black.

Law of nature,
And of time.
There is nothing,
In this life.

Vision in the season of depletion,
Repletion of all but the reason.

For strife in man.
Is here to stay;

Revealed by desire,
By a simple smile.
No barrier between self and liar.

To wish upon a falling star.
To wish upon a falling star.

– By Randall Evans.

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