Marillion On My Face

Marillion In The Twilight Fell Upon My Face

Filling In The Voided Space

Unfulfilled By Human Race

I Think I’ve Found My Place

Within The Swamps Of Belamour

Liquored Honey From The Gods

Brought There By The Mods

Who Escaped The Plastic Pods

Rising High Above All Odds

We All Go Running In The Streets 

Being Chased By Suits And Neats

Who Have Stolen All Our Seats

Never Admitting The Grand Defeat

Disillusions Much Abound

With Squawking, Frightening, Sounds

Exhibitions All In The Rounds

Cunning Smiles And Noble Frowns

Before My Insanity Does Set In

And The Razors Brings The End

I Will End Were It Begins

Finding Comfort In A Friend 

Filling In The Voided Space

Unfulfilled By Human Race

Sanctuary In My Place

When Marillion Falls On My Face

Within The Swamps Of Belamour.

The Spector Wept

In days of yore, when nights were long and cold,

A jester wept, his heart so strong, so bold,

His tears like dew upon the sodden ground,

For a long lost love, his soul is so profound.

Shakespeare’s quill didst etch his name,

Elizabethan sonnets, fortune, fame,

Chalice filled with poisonous brew,

Skull’s empty eyes, Tis all is true.

In 1970, a hallucination,

Jester’s laughter, wild elation,

The woods, where unicorns no longer roam,

A Garden of Eden, my luscious home.

Messiah’s love, pure and true,

Heart’s desires, shining through,

Love’s music  magic, forever new,

Eternal dreams, for me, for you.

Three days of weeping and gnashing teeth 

And now we hang the jester’s wreath

When peace doth dwell throughout the land

And beast will eat from mortals hands

All oceans will merge into the sands

And death and life will merge as one

All black will darken the brightest sun

Blood in veins no longer run

The Spector’s work is finally done

In 1970, a hallucination 

Jester’s laughter, wild elation

The woods where unicorns no longer run

One day will be peace for everyone 

Who will seek salvation in the midnight sun

No living souls left on the wheel of fate

No more words to be written, no more times to be late

His work is all finished, well done job that he kept

Such a sad revelation 

And…The Spector Wept

Long Live The King!

In James Lee’s own words: I like to be evocative and introspective in my verse . . . to capture the essence of emotions and experiences, inviting readers on a journey that I hope will touch the depths of their own feelings and perceptions but rethought, reimagined and given new vision. I try hard to blend vivid imagery and poignant language, to craft compelling narratives within the confines of verse and to showcase the mystery of the written word. My main aim is when someone dives into the world of James Lee, ( Odist), they are transported to a realm where emotions run deep and the human spirit is laid bare.