The Voice that never stops...

Journeys through the mind.

London > Manchester

London's unloved slouch behind me in the courtyard. It's early morning but the third can of Tennents Super or White Lightning or whatever they are drinking is already in fear of being made extinct.

... before it's too late

Tired of accepting the above Inadequacy fits - hand in glove

Amsterdamned

Once upon a time In a land reclaimed from sea I lost my person Albeit briefly

Broken Belles

And for a fraction Time wades through tar You hold yourself Composed But blue turns to grey Turns to black Enveloped by the thorny trees You descend once more to the haunted woods

Here Comes the Fear

Scared that I won’t be the best Scared of laughter from all the rest Scared of the high standards set Scared that voice won’t let me forget Scared of little things like snakes and planes

the inevitable aftermath

A flash of light and the curtain descends For all of the good, you can't make amends An evil there lies awake in the deep While man has spirits be sure it won't sleep