Craig Froman Quotes

Golden bars make no less a prisonthan a coffin on a hill.And in caged reformation,one wanders aimless still.The rafters now a recollectionof sacred suppression.How the morning dawnstrikes mourning confession.Now Death yields a harvestof the living masses.We walk toward its pathno earthly power surpasses.

A pebble thrown in a poolmay ripple from end to end,but tossed into the sea,it is swallowed by enormity.

Some say the ocean roars,I hear it ever weeping.Weep, ocean, weep for those gone before.Weep, O sea, for the open graves that fill your shore.

I roamed alone;O, barren dreams.My echoed voice,what lonely comfort.Here is my salvation:I hear the triumph drum;the rhythm of the rising,the long-awaited sun.

The winged beasts and angels know, that mortals cannot fly. But how I flew to see the sun; a broken bird am I.

In freedom you form in utter disgrace,the bars of my prison this night.While you drift on currents of seraphim heights,it is I who deserve to take flight.

Deep blackness waits outside;a veiled inferno it attempts to hide.We see no more than dark clouds growing,but set inside, a fire is glowing.

I walk the sand alone,and feel it stirring as I roam,upon this breathing earth,where wave on wave begins new birth.I sense a grand facade,where colors paint the hand of God.And in remorseful pain,I dance the stones of bitter strain.