Light the fire, fan the flames, and rake me through the coals then take me to the market where the artists sell their souls. Each and every frame is gilded and the canvas hides the cost, so they can hang you in the gallery to display what is lost. Nine winters at the easel and the mailbox never sings, just a stack of polite passings official letters bring. The appraisals have learned my name and the sculpture's gotten proud The syllables echo through your chapel even if they're not spoken aloud. I watch the coronated smiling from their covers on the stand, every brushstroke taking orders, every anthem made as planned. A whisper starts its journey through the very marrow of my spine: "Paint the water how the market wants, who cares about the wine?" Maybe hunger is a compass that's been pointing at the fault, perhaps genius is in obedience to it's pension in the vault. Lose trust that all my burning mattered like a candle to the sun for if art is what the buyer says, then mine was never one. No. The fire wasn't lit for them and hunger will never be proof a cathedral's still a cathedral with a hole punched in the roof. Let the market crown its own reflection and all the copied carbon stay gold: I would rather starve as bottled lightning than be fattened, framed, and sold. kbm.

What are the things that we can say while we're still being honest I can't remember everything but I know that I made you a promise Some stories are written in the stars, others only in the comets The truth exists so save yourself some room to be astonished I know that flesh feels heavy but your spirit can't be caged Not the wisdom of the wizard nor the force within the mage It is within your nature, that of the seer and the sage You'll find all the wonder in the turning of the page Relieve yourself of burdens for the things that were never yours But hold on to hope, for you will build yourself a door To make way for those that follow and those who came before Keep your faith in your compass, not the number of the score I'll meet you in the shadows if you get lost within the plumb Remind you where you are going and just how far you've come Rejoice in war and peace, and welcome the sound of the battle drum When the victory is yours, you will remember where you're from kbm.