On The Trail of the First High

1)
Lucid dreams of major/minor despairs
You stretched to reach with your talon claws
Cry out baby sheep and take that leap
Movements, they set off paranoia
This dying state of frenzy is rather dire.
Tick Tock, Tick Tock the graying clock
screamed and moaned through time block
Sing to me, my dear nothings
But please keep that burning fire going
For soon, I will return and unlike this
It'll be similar to that first kiss.

2)
Sometimes I run with my arms out before me
I have no faith, in order to be
Longing has become the glimmering scales
that I shed as desired revival of
misplaced trust.
There's this hunger in the pit of my stomach
It's a darkened cave, where senses are off
and honesty is never really enough.
To strive for that mark of approval
has set me back light years of progress
like leaving school and missing recess.

3)
The painter, Max, never stopped looking
for that woman, who will grant
Good Earth's wishes and speak frank.
One morning, Max woke up with his vision
and began his labor of love on that white canvas.
Days, weeks, and months it took to manifest
but a face is evident on the horizon.
A lady with a Roman nose and fiery ringlets
Her passion burns through, like magnets
searching for its counterpart, in his art.