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Winds of Winter

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Yes, I understand that every life must end, and as we sit alone knowing that there will be one day that we must go. Wondering who are those that will stay with me and I know that my sins are well practiced, and under everything lies just another human being? At times I have been a fool, and no-one knows this better than me, as I attempt to come clean. Remembering when I lived in those high desert plains and surrounded by that sunburned earth, which had me sometimes seeing red and feeling like I had cathedral bells ringing in my ears. And recalling it seemed like I had demons on my tail and looking at that black flattop ribbon highway that stretched to the horizon and beyond through the sun scorched land, as I felt those warm winds blowing and the heat under blue skies.

Now I know that I am caught up in things and afraid to lose control and seem to think with my heart and moved with my head, and seem to have wasted both time and breath. Needing at times to move and to fight and knowing there are those who don’t know what they tamper with and are surprised when they find a piece of them missing as they get taken down. I know that one day my time will come and I am sorry for some of those things I have done, and loyalty and friendship is given to only those deserving of it. And at times I can see that old graveyard that holds those in and under the earth and there is at times a new solitary stone that carries my name on it. Still there are things you don’t have to take from me, but I know of what I speak, with most forms of justice being just dumb and blind.

So come to me and lighten up the atmosphere, and see if those silver sparks will once again ignite that flame I call a heartbeat, and avoid the twin traps of gravity and history. See if the ice water in my veins has thawed, and allow things to be started as they should, and be where it all belongs, and know when we reach the end it will all start again. See that jitterbug ride and take dancing lessons together to be able to avoid the obstacles placed in our path by that strange arrival from a thousand miles away. We both have sins and there should be no reason to be sad as lay our cards on the table in the midst of the shuffling of dreams, and be taken down by the river before the rain starts coming down and to the preacher man with the knowledge I have messed up all I can and he can wash it all away and look out towards the dark horizon, and knowing it’s all up to me and you.

There have been many things I have seen that I might not believe and knowing that I hold onto what I know and that things aren’t always what they seem. Which might have me ask you if you have faith in me? So talk to me when you feel yourself falling for we both now that here is gone and has left with the loud ticking of that false clock that tries to distract us from those things at hand. For I will be there come the day when it seems like the hammer is about to fall and the shadows can be felt on you, for fear is always out there somewhere.

But then again heroes aren’t made to survive, and it seems like the hero was made to fall and die then never grow old. There are times when I could give you a hand to hold, and your blood on me, and my blood on you, and you know the only thing I wouldn’t do is make you bleed. And they don’t see that the joke they think is co cool has been seen before and is just a small bit of history repeating. With all in some way being a part of me as well as apart of me, and I know I am not magnificent, but instead am a bit of an enigma, and a form of a true individual, something they forgot that still exists. Living by an old and obsolescent, as well as archaic code they never will understand. Brother to a prince and fellow to a beggar only if he be found worthy and not to suffer fools, and the empty games they play which just sharpens the senses to go in for the kill. Which I know you understand and won’t let go of my hand.

Copyright: Timberwolf International LTD. July 2016 – 33

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Written by Shotgun011
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