I see things in a different dark,
All things that nothing can explain.
I wear clothes of a different design,
Things no loom would weave.
I weave webs of fantasy
To ensnare any Unwary enough to read,
To view The art, I produce.
Out there, inside you I see a kindred flame,
A dark dream so bright it will
Allow you to see Through the lies that normality,
Reality weaves.
Do not explain the visions you hear.
Keep from them the sounds you see.
Tell them not the texture of pain,
The colour of pleasure.
They have no light,
They dwell in a different darkness.
To them we are that which nothing can explain.
To us they are as an open dream,
An empty heart.
A broken scream.
But you must be kind to them.
Those poor blind souls
Stumbling in their Different dark.
They sleep to dream.
They dream a small death
They call a paradise.
We, who live in paradise,
They fear.
Call us mad.
Anything but what they truly think we are.
The Un-dead, Waking dreamers,
Angels or demons.
Spirits too free for their small caged world,
After various requests I have begun to produce miniatures of many of the pictures here 2.5' by 3.5' as ACEOs, collectable original art works on e-bay. Each ACEO is a reproduction not a copy and each are unique and limited edition. Please feel free to request ACEOs of any pictures in the gallery I will let you know as they become available by auction.
Thank you all for your wonderful praise and support over the years!
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