Saturday, July 26, 2014

40 East at Midnight

The last light dies over the trees
As the clouds gather above me
The sky mumbles something of broken dreams
And the first of her tears lands on my cheek
The storm will come soon
The weight of the world will descend
Like a thousand tiny vultures on my skin
And I will defend, what remains of my heart
The black skies roil in dissent
Over the will that drives the intent
But I won't ask them to relent
Rather I'll revel in the tears I've spent
Who now remain hidden
Beneath her, between her bony hands
Where tiny drops collect and fall
To the pavement, this road is dark and lonely
And I'll walk every mile of it
Surrounded by the scratch and screams of the trees
And the thund'rous bellows of the malcontent
Who have driven me this far
Only to leave me with their questions
The last life peers from the horizon
Two bright eyes approaching light speed
I see them coming, fear nothing
I know I will be missed
And I'll keep marching
A force unbound by circumstance
And even if the blinding rain might crush me
It cannot wash the taste from my lips
I will compile my thoughts in ink
I will mark her skin as parchment
Until the coming of that final sleep
That I'll see in her where life was spent.

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