Issue 3, September 2007

Hello, Mr. Warden, you kind-hearted man

I appreciate your hospitality while in your mansion of sand

I am only visiting, like passing through

Doing the very best I can, not to feel blue.

Now, Mr. Warden, you understanding man

Time in your mansion is not a good plan

The corridors feel empty every single night

My heart aches to hold a woman in my arms tight.

Letters cannot kiss her under soft candle Light

Words cannot hold her on cold winter nights

My promises do not carry much weight anymore

Since I have been in your mansion for evermore.

My soul cries out to hold a woman with kisses so right

It is thoughts like these that get me through the night

Love is like the hour-glass as the sand runs down

It begins to grow empty as time passes round.

Now, Mr. Warden, your mansion I would not recommend

Life as I knew it has come to an end

As I continue to live in your mansion so strong

May I live to deter the next occupant before they go wrong.

Please, Mr. Warden, I wish to leave your mansion so grand

Doing all I can, not to return to your mansion of sand

I am one of many tenants in your rooms that are supplied

If I told you that my stay is pleasant, to you I would have lied.

Goodbye, Mr. Warden, I must turn off my light

And return to my freedom that I find in the night

As I close my eyes, I am in heavenly bliss

Only to reopen them to find my Life is a myth.