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.......Sweat trickles painfully down this paranoia of being watched
Pale white face sight erased as the blood runs thru the shock
the omen, the stolen life of shadow peirces the open night
close fist around his stick clenches stronger closing fright
the expression of this lonely man was in pure hatred in this raise
lifted my stomach my heart my soul with the lifting of his blade
my body jerks with the swing as i find my soul n body awake....

I saw my death in this dream, death of my pure loves in the serene
One memorie lay still, the horse of shrill death was already deemed
intracit blueprint links will be torn with my wit ill run away yes flee
Jump to the swift of my stallion sworn to protect my awful greed
for my lover will never die without my saying, never ever willingly
as she begins weary her tired eyes begin to close so hastely
yes!..escaped the unescapable death,close this chapter as she rests
lay her down to explore this new world of unlimited possiblities
suddenly, most mysteriously, my feet are drawn to the soft clink
of a mallet and a rock, the artist on this takes time to think
moves backinto his shadows as to battle with foolish links
the sculpture holds my soul in its intricite paterns and folds
impressions of this will surely roll the years to be told
among aspireing artists, students and scholars that mold
must meet this man, mantic artist who holds such power on this rock
but as his features become visible a familiar sense of shock
as he holds his mallet in hand my pupils focus upon this crest
engraved are a man mounted on a horse with anger on his chest
i look eye and eye with death, now know the error of my ways
he smiles as hes finished with the lettering "Here lies Lyle Drake"
my pupils widen he doesnt know my identity he doesnt know my fate
articulate some words"lets have lunch"as the murderer puts down his slate
..what to do as we seperate, i ask to spend the night for this is just the bait
as this storm bursts thick and his wife begins to shake, ill lift with me a knife
.Ill Drop my curtain and let My lover sustain her Drapes.

...Cold deaths hand meddles clearly in these lives, for God is a poet....
...A man Dreams of Murder,his lovers fate he decides, for he wil hold it
...The Artist featured is God as he teaches ironic lessons the hard way
...He foresaw a face, didnt notice that it was his hand that held the blade.....