I whisper softly through the night of love, life, tears and fears. Whether they're what is noble and right, their morality is untold by years. For I sing an ancient song in a strong, young voice. Whether it beckons free or balks wrong, the fire goes from head to hand without a choice, exuding light and flame with both zeal and shame. Everyday I reach and touch our collective humanity and return to find I've lost my taste for sanity. My eyes grow stubborn and my pen grows rough. I've said a little piece; that ought to be enough.

Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, USA
1998





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