If you can choose the battlefield
—you can determine the outcome
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2019)
Adrian Simpson in ‘Falling Into The Darkness’
My Hope
With chaos on my doorstep,
reasoning befalls
With heartache as my calling card,
love though distant calls
All questions left unanswered,
with time their holy grail
As seasons march to heavens step
—my hope to then prevail
(Dreamsleep: June, 2019)
Living On The Surface
Living on the surface,
dinner’s always served at eight
Living on the surface,
pride forever casts your fate
Living on the surface,
things always seem just fine
Living on the surface,
plays an endless pantomime
Living on the surface,
the church contains your soul
Living on the surface,
your religion swallowed whole
Living on the surface,
things never change that much
Living on the surface,
you can only look, not touch
Living on the surface,
the wheel only spins one way
Living on the surface,
each spoke a mortgage pays
Living on the surface,
love professes in a vow
Living on the surface,
real commitment not allowed
Living on the surface,
new doors stay locked and shut
Living on the surface,
your reentry self-destructs
Living on the surface,
your reflection flat and clean
While just below the surface
—beats the heart of what things mean
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)
Is It Time
Are you ready for forgiveness,
has that time finally come
You’ve done everything else in life,
holding back on just that one
Is it time to say “I’m sorry,”
for the hurt and pain you’ve caused
Is it time to shed false glory,
and end this dreadful pause
Is it time to try and reconnect,
with those loved ones that you left
Is it time your pride no longer hides,
behind the grandest theft
Are the tears then real for what’s gone by,
to which river do they flow
Has the time now come to stem the tide
—and let your feelings show
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)
A Wish Distilled
A sweetness comes with age,
like fruit that’s finally ripe
A Poet then a Sage,
on this journey into night
A wish distilled from all regret,
its seeds to be resown
A sweetness comes with age
—that buried youth will never know
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)