ELOY:   Time to Turn

Through A Somber Galaxy

on my voyage through vast space
towards the heart of brillancy,
I must cope with the unknown face
of a somber galaxy
this universe, seemingly vacant and dead;
shapeless and black as the night,
appears all the same full of life, immensly rich.

limited by human sense;
I can only feel the force:
what is near but seems distant;
all those eyes behind the countless doors,
that observe me, physically present and real.
the knights of light don't resist.
I pass untouched through their guard,
I've stood their test.

the change of an era has come -
a new age is born;
as it's been foreseen so long
a period of thought and insight -
man must survive.
though he's conjured his chances so many a time,
and asked for the gift of life more than twice.
his final run of luck has come now.

Behind The Walls Of Imagination

a garden wild, yet warm and delightful:
a paradise of comforting peace.
sound and clear, a gentle touching atmosphere.
an open air, serene and refreshing;
and nature pure as it was created.
sound and clear, a gentle touching atmoshpere.
sedative ringing sounds surprise the sole intruding man.
he, who's used to the noise of lies,
and often changing stands;
the sacrifice of brother's hand, deceit with dubious plans.
a world that has gone to extremes and has failed.

people surround me, peacefully, I can tell.
I see in wonder, how our links and bonds fit well.

their voices sing colourful and true;
an honesty I have never used.
ambiguity never does appear;
and barriers of speech are not feared.

harmonious singing - celestial bells I hear.
from all these people I have nothing to fear.

their voices sing colourful and true;
an honesty I have never used.
ambiguity never does appear;
and barriers of speech are not feared.

sedative ringing sounds surprise the sole intruding man.
he, who's used to the noise of lies,
and often changing stands;
the sacrifice of brother's hand, deceit with dubious plans.
a world that has gone to extremes and has failed.

Time To Turn

now we've come to the age,
where the splendour fades,
and we can look behind drooping facades.
the glossy front's just fake,
the firm base breaks, as this doomed world slowly decays.

illusions fly high,
nothing we don't try
to build up fantasies we can believe.
the dance on dragon's jaws,
in reach of its claws, destroys the little we could retrieve.

we have resigned to our fate
afraid that our time is up now.
though it's not quite too late, if we take to action now.

we see no future, just today's endured-
and tomorrow is smoke in the wind.
we dance, sing, play,
'cause we feel the strain of living at the end of our time.

we have resigned to our fate
afraid that our time is up now.
though it's not quite too late, if we take to action now.

choir:
our legacy
fades and melts away,
because tomorrow may not ever be.
so we dance and sing, try to bear the thought
of approaching the end of our time.
our legacy......

Magic Mirrors

follow a faint reflecting light
to the core of all consciousness;
that mirrors what is not in sight,
or lost somewhere in carelessness.
thought in it's purest form, focused here's reborn.
leading to higher spheres of soul, heart and mind.

the darkest part of man's unveiled
and brought to sight relentlessly
a balance between win and fail, an even scale of honesty.
thought in it's purest form, focused here is reborn.
leading to higher spheres of soul, heart and mind.

caught in a whirl of life laid bare,
set free of envy and hate.
insight I've gained;
I've climbed the stairs up to the mirrors of fate.
the deepest source of soul and minds
portrayed and put into light.
no more remorse; glorious truth -
rendered by mirrors of fate.

End Of An Odyssey

welcome, my worldly friend,
don't rely on me as your guide.
I will be of no help,
when you stand the turn of the tide.
it's only to the individual's force
to escape the wheels of approaching deadly fate.

don't trust your dusty rules,
they've fooled you more than twice.
life doesn't have to mean hollowness;
if you perceive the truth within yourself,
that can give some sense to your life in time.

stop calling heroes now;
they cannot delay the last landslide,
neither undo your past,
or have stand the turn of the tide.
it's only to the individual's force
to escape the wheels of approaching deadly fate.

life doesn't have to mean hollowness;
if you perceive the truth within yourself,
that can give some sense to your life in time.

The Flash

I am locked up inside a house of solid glass;
open to every look of the one's who pass.
moments of fantasy trade with those of void;
images of repose, repress the worldly toil.

I can't tell the difference between what's real and dream.

is this the land of riches,
the path to our source?
is this the only key to unlock all doors?
or has my fantasy once again fooled me?
will the signs I see next fail to free me?

I can't tell the difference between what's real and dream.

as if I awake from the deepest sleep,
and as if the road to being seems less steep.

these glassy walls that have surrounded me
break and give way for a flow of energy.
freedom I sought,
and for which I have paid,
strides over my strongly built barricades.

the self I really am,
that was once disguised,
evolves to the fullest - starts its steady rise.
rids the broken pieces of my shattered past.
it overcomes the fear - weight, I've lost at last.

now there's just space,
endlessly new to me.
the flash of light enables me to see,
and my view touches horizons as serene,
as the source of all that I have ever dreamed.

Say, Is It Really True

HEY - HEY
say, is it really true,
that the flame of hope has grown?
that the spirit has changed;
that the few no longer stand alone?

say, is it really true,
that the thought of war's lost its meaning?
that self-made devils died;
the idols of wealth and power are sinking?

the coldest nights finally followed by dawn;
an outburst of light,
that cures the blind.
a strong conviction has evolved in time;
that life demands deeds we must define.

say, is it really true,
that once buried virtues now arise?
that the being itself
no longer asks for a disguise?

a power that's been neglected, denied;
now blossoms and grows, calls out the best.
at last the change of an era has come;
but there won't be much time to rest.

say, is this the force I feel within
heart and mind the truth?
or am I deceived again, painfully abused?
say, is it really true,
that the flame of hope has grown?
or am I deceived again, painfully abused?