I still can't change the past but I remember love not as a raging all consuming fire
more like a steady warm glow from the hearth
I watch the rain drag cigarette butts into tiny pools as I ponder the meanings of life an death
the road to heaven has been washed away along with the best of intentions
leaving me now with only the here and now
as the darkness calls my name
I still can't change the past but I remember love not as a raging all consuming fire
more like a steady warm glow from the hearth
angels beckon with their brand of deception
they don't mean me any harm
then again they don't mean me any good either
the words of the prophets are painted graffiti on urine stained alleyway walls
the funny part is archeologists in search of wisdom years from now
will stand before it in awe and whole academic schools of thought will spring forth from the perceived meanings of the spray painted scrawls of the lunatics before
I still can't change the past but I remember love not as a raging all consuming fire
more like a steady warm glow from the hearth
I have been weighed measured and found to be lacking
but fuck it I'm still in the game nothing short of death will keep me down
the remnants of concrete and pavement left along life's dirt roads
gives one the false promise it may end somewhere
I still can't change the past
but I remember love slowly burning out
"the darkness calls my name"
A place to exist for a while, then move on from. Here and now is no comprison to the multi-sided pull of the future. I dream the future, the here and now is transitory, or will be in time. I think this is the essence of faith. Hope is a whole different animal. I'll get that back too in time. p.s. Yes, U no what U R doing! - Stella -
;-)
I always connect with & appreciate the art of your work, but this one had that something that made me hear it with a combination of your voice channeling the spirit of Dylan Thomas. Well done, Sir!
Thanks Beavis didn't realize
Thanks Beavis didn't realize I had a fan base lol
Every story-teller bends the myth to his own purpose. that's why a Hero has a thousand faces
loved this
sorry, though i know this was love lost, but so loved this, because it shows a life lost, i know nothing about love, but i know life lost, opportunities, dreams, fantasies,
i found this very beautiful and it enriched me, reading it
my humblest thanks :)
Thanks but be careful you
Every story-teller bends the myth to his own purpose. that's why a Hero has a thousand faces