You draw the light and dark away Like creation revoked Swirling back spun echoes Sucked down clockwise A visible vortex rotating
I have risen back from the dead, this dark cave I have stumbled in now showing a source of light, for years it seems
hello and goodbye fleeting words that remain, below and in eyes the whiz of static changes, awkward smiles
the sky turned from blue to black as I staggered off the train, you, more holding me than I you we found no comfort in the arms of… the streets growing darker
this dark dug out hollow where the loyalties of men are hon… says more with an empty gesture than is ever said out loud, they want your blood and tears
manipulation of my strings though I devour all you cast my wa… towards your stain of this disease you’re an atom or defiant morsel, you make me crawl to endure
I can see ghosts in your eyes you carry them like hopes, clutched close and tightly held each one a knot in lifes rope, clouds form in and around the iris
the cobbled streets of my home tow… a childhood rained on by a salacio… this town was once a dickensian sn… not much changed from the seventie… now this place has lost its heart,…
Breath sharp, fast, rasping Legs pumping, hands grasping Verdant roads span and greet As the cyclist pursues the endless… Eyes fixed, heart pounding
Crockery gets in your way when the mood takes you Your fist finds my face when the mood grates you Abuse gets hurled, four letter wor…
I have no forgiveness in my heart just the tired soul of a vengeful… who’s wings were clipped long ago and behind gritted teeth snarls chained in the garden like a guard…
one step in front of the other one smile and keep the flow, never let them see you’re struggli… being owned by the under tow, if you ask for help make sure you…
a high pitched whine stabs into my… as all other sounds fade, hidden i… the laughs and shouts and the clas… as I sweat staring at one spot, to… this parties in full swing the boo…
there’s a breeze I feel about my face and frame, no location can be found but you you turn the milk sour as the mirr… the street below bustles a way awa…
And I suppose its a lachrymose re… one where I’m on bended knee apolo… that funeral dirge still smarts my… from when the ground shook, though… And my head ached from your banshe…