Parties go in grey
Parties with chimneys
Food, hope and hoopla
I was given a ride through the overgrown outskirts
we hit the hill the ghost dropped me off there
cloudy humid afternoon
He went home somewhere a few streets from heaven
I wandered past the darkening mirror like lagoons
Over the wet grass
Without food in my stomach or expectation in my heart
or hoopla in my step or chi
Empty as the road I'd been left on
In these wetlands I would be faced with every defect
Yes the place itself was a dim teacher
the thick grey cloud and large expanses of dark water
Completely no emotion a statue walking
And I look out at the water as if eyes had no meaning or purpose
And I attempt to describe the street behind my eyes
Small nostalgias are crushed on this road to nowhere
Sentimental fantasies drown out there in those mirror like waters
They drown and wail like the wind was alive
but today there is no wind
The soul searches for a feeling to know it still exists
Though neutral stays the mood
Here in this wetland I am the drop of water
The drop that will with the sky's touch discolor the mirror lakes
and purpose found, the mouth will smile.
The tear of joy will run and the soul will keep walking through these wetlands
Invisible but alive
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