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Bury the falcon

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I don't want to ask any more questions.

But I must to find piece.

Yet  I don't understand.

The pain.

The rain.

Or a baby's laugh.

I can not understand how thick the plots can be.

It saddens me that songs live brighter lives than poems.

The longest day has the brightest night.

The Strongest whiskey won't chase the most jagged afterglow.

Women and men are broken bow and an ax left in the dirt and lost in the sand.

It is a question I can not answer.

Take a risk and wonder what it would mean if you lost your poetry.

My colors are just a mixing of reflecting in the shape of the wind.

Did you say I live for you?

Did you rationalize me?

But I won't take it I cant.

I don't want to.

It would be wrong to.

Is that why you left?

That is my best guess in the afterglow.

Whiskey ain't cheap.





Written by Time
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