Sky and sea and land, these three amigos,
 like love and fate,
 lately delayed the day when the dreadful daylight starts
 of unkept promises and broken hearts.

God’s dying conspired to extinguish every ounce of youth and beauty
 to send us scurrying to the heaven-sent skies,
 or some dreamy city of the sultry south,
 where word of mouth only carries a smidgen of meaning,
 and that’s as far as it goes, no proof allowed, fingers, feet or toes?

She points at fragrances, shatters ceilings, catches scents of musk
 in a roman de la rose, at the close of business,
 there’s money to be made in trade in babies, food, body parts, slaves; 
 human trafficking robs us all of heart 
 there’s no comfort in knowing this
 only a few people have evil hidden deep inside themselves
 holocausts cant be bought or sold.

So many copy cat killers around these days.
 living life in a drug-fuelled haze
 I rap the walls with bleeding knuckles
 no stars left in the sky and nobody listens as time drifts by.

Years can sometimes become stars, I know,
 when the weeping of the poor enters our soul;
 wishing for tomorrow is buried deep in the hearts of the people 
 who dream of the gaps left in the brutal determinations of life
 trouble nor strife, spend time in a wiliderness of flowers,
 or contemplating holocausts?

 Only the the daffodils know the force of renewal
 and they are securely hidden from the cold and frost
 futures are bent, twisted, bruised, lost 
 and very rarely the sweet taste of this old sad sweet song,
 is a music made from all our broken heartss.

Saint Sophia's cathedral in occupied Constantinople