Years done by thousands won as nothing in a tale.. by the Opera song and spirit.. ‘Sportin’ Life’.. the whale.. crashing seconds ripple real media or art.. a tale it was.. a tale it is.. expression from the start..
A rusty streak of blood across dark reason gods excuse.. flash bang crash.. romance and cash heady still.. a ruse.. a child sits thirsty in the desert.. just North of here at ease.. insane winds diasporic mentioned eight estates and fleas..
Take you to the dreams of Asgard.. conscious to the past.. run to expectations futile.. such will never last.. soul to heart mind names a start blood runs vessel and bone.. if you dream of bloody times.. may that blood be your own..
Here my ‘Widow’s Walk’ walked steps millions.. many more.. hollow eyes child waits a sunrise.. find me at the door..
Years hold no remorse for me impatient for release.. from insane in heart and brain who kept us long from peace..
Been a man to preach of hand to hand in greeting true.. been a soldier till a time when I could not fight you.. smile if you are able friend.. just one thing for true.. my woman and my child I meet with the next ‘Morning Dew’..
‘what makes a second important is the next one’..