Your life painted before you
|
Stolen by the most uneducated of thieves
|
Her smile¡¯s intoxicating
|
So let me make a toast to revival
|
I have enough on my chest to write a novel
|
And that¡¯s where it will stay until your ears are open for business
|
So I can¡¯t sell myself short this time
|
A market full of used death beds
|
The merchant smirks with a mouth filled with saw teeth
|
You leave the store like your past, empty handed
|
The needle in the hay stack lies buried in abhorrence
|
Reverse the cycle
|
Start with a courtship
|
And end with the world
|
|
-----------------
|
Courtesy Bow
|
| Winter Solstice |
