Perception

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

Ignis

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