A view from the keyhole

Let it shine on,
Even staring at it blurring and all,
I still see the blood Red Sea,
The piranha in schools eating the fools,
Separating the monsters from men,

Hearing the sounds, it was the creaks and whistles of the ever green tree’s,
Tearing the frayed branches in every which way,
Down to the beginning of the seed,
Where roots dug into their holes,
Grasping to the sands where the ancestry of man began.

The candle still shines bright tonight,
As I write into this tomb,
I can smell the lingering mold,
Damp and cold are the stones I stand upon,
I can see the moss grow and take hold of the walls,
Looking up at the shadows appearing on the ceiling I still see the way out,
Thou the shadow of the soul would make one feel it’s still far away.

Then I saw you,
The jester among the weeds,
Deep now heavily seeded and suffocating our dreams,
Dancing and jolly drunk with holly,
Trying to hypnotize me with the attraction of folly.