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Beneath a starless sky
Beneath an unlit moon
Within a fog of mind
Drawn from a needle's spoon
Beyond the pain of 'going'
Beyond all coming back
My eyes stare up at nothing
My skin turns greasy-black

A child hides from Mother
Down in a basement cold
Wise beyond all reason
Yet still just four years old
He looks into the shadows
That form beneath the stairs
And fears no Man nor Creature
As lips pronounce His prayers


In a shallow grave
In a fallow field
You might find my bones
You might find my shield
But you won't find my sorrow
And you won't find my 'yield'
And I'll fight on tomorrow
My 'deaths' are always healed

Hayden Genealogy
Produced and Published by Christopher Hayden
Who is Christopher Hayden?
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