I Might Crash and Burn
A blood stained floor bathed in the redness of my love, sit's tacky and drying into a darkened crimson.
The mind flounders and wails it's losses to the ever listening ears of an impatient soul.
The body, now hallowed and blessed by the curses of the golden suns of life.
Unprotected; It burns and singes to a blackened char of relative easement's.
Leased by the worries of yesterday and besieged by the false promises of a supposed tomorrow.
The spider's web ensnaring all thought as the arachnid array of frustration draws upon the wisdom for it's daily intake of life.
The weeping child of a bitter omen stands still for the display of consumption.
Over wrought senses decline to partake in a well deserved rest.
Struggling, straining, stranded..., the island prison begins to submerge.
Madness beckons and is then recounted. Accountants take toll of the damages
Whispering words wildly, wonder and wander, wanting for a will and way, whilst winning wicked wants.
Tipping scales weigh out the balances of decision. Derisive contemplating convictions converge.
The choices become clearer the further off in the distance they become.
Time slows and stops at a precise moment.
It is done then................................
Clarity ensues
~The Snowdog
The mind flounders and wails it's losses to the ever listening ears of an impatient soul.
The body, now hallowed and blessed by the curses of the golden suns of life.
Unprotected; It burns and singes to a blackened char of relative easement's.
Leased by the worries of yesterday and besieged by the false promises of a supposed tomorrow.
The spider's web ensnaring all thought as the arachnid array of frustration draws upon the wisdom for it's daily intake of life.
The weeping child of a bitter omen stands still for the display of consumption.
Over wrought senses decline to partake in a well deserved rest.
Struggling, straining, stranded..., the island prison begins to submerge.
Madness beckons and is then recounted. Accountants take toll of the damages
Whispering words wildly, wonder and wander, wanting for a will and way, whilst winning wicked wants.
Tipping scales weigh out the balances of decision. Derisive contemplating convictions converge.
The choices become clearer the further off in the distance they become.
Time slows and stops at a precise moment.
It is done then................................
Clarity ensues
~The Snowdog
