Will you come with me, to the silver stream,
Where the insects dance, and the bluejays scream,
And the fires rage, far into the night,
Into our lives, cleaning a blight.

Will you dance with me, in the silver stream,
While the fire climbs, and the forest sings,
And the strig watch, as the corvus dream,
Of finding mice, and shiny things.

Are you with me, by the silver stream,
Where the willows rest, and my heart dreams,
Of better things, and worlds to come,
Being birthed, by a brand new sun.

Will you ever be, at the silver stream
Where my soul waits, and my body sings,
As lightning pulses, to the tip of my tongue,
Telling my heart, of what may come.

I will await thee, at the silver stream,
While the suns finally set, to release this dream,
A trick of the eye, a flick of the wrist,
A swim in the stream, to end this thirst.

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"I was an artist before I was born. I was driven and lashed onward by powerful forces outside myself. There was no other path, and no matter how hard I might have tried to find one, I would have been forced back again." -Gustav Vigeland


"I do not regret the things I have done, but those I did not do." - Lucas, in Empire Records