#cowboys Silhouetted in the gold rush, On steed, past tumbleweed and thorns brush. Treading paths unseen To the spot, to build a fire under the stars and dream.

Winding Sticks Standing on a bridge in the moonlight. Staring at the water lapping, dancing in the crystal blue. Time to pick my stick. Wandering down the winding bank. Watching for the light to point out my perfect Poo Stick. Playing alone with nothing but internal influence. On returning to the bridge. (Made of pale stone that glows under the influence of the nighttime hue) I slip and almost fall in the water, almost loose my precious find but I find my balance and like a miracle I return to the bridge unscathed and dry. I look up to the sky. The stars stretching back through time and I catch the#moonin my eye and the face smiles to me. I gaze along the length of my Poo Stick and something inside tells me that I must keep it, that it is precious. My gaze returns to the gently lapping stream, clear and the bed of stones glows. I have made my decision and I drop my hand over the wall of the bridge and gently release my Poo Stick into the slowly turning steam. It bobs to the surface and is lost in the rolling waters of the night.

Apologies Mixing the dark and the light. Be it in day or night. I apologise Making thoughts more than real. Writing about the things I feel I can only apologise. Living in a dream of day Hoping the world can change. Foolishness. I can only apologise. Taking the time to ride on the wave of time. To think and discover ideas old and woven through the fabric of mans desires. For this I do not apologise. There is a balance between thought and fate There is a balance between #life and death Ease of thought is heavens bait. Query lies at the gates of Hell. All because somebody bad stole my wedding bell. Ah well, the dark lord awaits. Meeting me at the gates. To turn my mind to hate and steal my soul. A game we play, with quiet refrain. On his face I see the strain For my soul is mine, Simple in the flames.

#Satan Satan and I are close, Bound by a warriors pact. Together fighting for God, In the Elysian Fields. Satan and God had a spat lets say, I hear rumours but bridge the gap betwixt. Cruising down the river Stix. With Cronus at my side. Over the black and murky waters, glide, Cruising on the tide That funnels down the river wide. I have Satan as a brother, He, me as a Mother. God turned his back on me When I didn't want to see. Satan took me by the hand And we felt our way through his land. There are things that I see The way things are, not want or should bees I lay my soul upon an altar old. And allow the fates tale to unfold. Trust in powers old and strong and beeeeeeeeep. CM

#LOVE Love is the twisting turning of the hare, Running from natures snares. To trust love in the ever impending doom Is to stair into the gloom and find the light. The light is your love and use it as you may But know once its seen it will never go away. Treat it gently, treat it kindly, and follow its winding slowly; through the secrets of time. The blue love is a venture best swathed in secrecy. Playing Epona Origins home soon. M