Without the dark there isn’t light
Contrast of the bright and hues
When fate returns to claim its dues
Projected thoughts into the eyes
Imagined so they must be lies
Might be there, but is out of sight
–Simon
Tales from Easement Acres
Without the dark there isn’t light
Contrast of the bright and hues
When fate returns to claim its dues
Projected thoughts into the eyes
Imagined so they must be lies
Might be there, but is out of sight
–Simon
A golden spire
In a time most dire
And the land is wreathed in fire
And the sky rains ash
On the populated trash
And we choke on soiled air
But no one seems to care
Because the fight is here inside
And we could have stopped the tide
But now already set in motion
In the land and in the ocean
A species will retire everywhere
–Simon