Cool New Day

A cool new day,
rise up to see the new way,
such a glorious day,
a day to waste time away,
such a chilly Sunday.

No saints roam these lands,
no dead hands mold these bands,
an empty cascade of baron lands,
lands of treason and glory,
glorious drop to the knees again,
again, time stands still,
a cold new day,
a cool new way.


Stems from the soil,
the hands had pressed solidly,
sprouted from time immemorial,
to lands long forgotten,
a surging current,
snaking around your mind,
a creative daze,
you could always find.

Art cometh the hour,
and hand to paper,
a story from  dust,
to dust thee shall return,
to the pit of writers despair it shall return.