I tell myself that this is it,
when the day is done.
When I wake I'll start anew,
but tomorrow never comes.
Tomorrow becomes today
more quickly than the last,
more quickly than the bottles empty
more weeks and months go past.
I buy the drink, the drink buys me
another day to run.
The demons waiting patiently
for when the day is done.
Tomorrow becomes today;
I waste it like before,
I waste it getting wasted,
but I'm wasting so much more
My friends, my health, my family
and those I cherish most;
watch the boy they used to love,
becoming just a ghost.
Tomorrow becomes today,
I may have missed it all,
I may have missed the last chance
just to never miss last call
I tell myself that this is it
when the day is done,
but the circle remains unbroken
and tomorrow never comes.
I, too, was once a man
in search of guiding light.
Hopeless, lost, alone
and ready to give up the fight.
When a helping hand reached out,
unencumbered by my weight
and took it upon themselves
to pull me from Hell's gate.
Self sacrifice; a virtue
that I would someday know
to be the shelter that I found
beneath the cape of my hero.
Confide in me, my darling;
I'll be your great escape.
It was written in the starlight
that I would don the cape.
I knew you as a person
who wore daffodils in her hair;
dancing barefoot in the fields.
your aura, like an aurora of Pandora's open box.
Recklessly compassionate in your unrelenting affection.
I remember when they told me
that you had passed away.
I watched as they returned your body to the earth.
They say that you're in heaven now,
but I don't know how this can be true
when every day I still feel you in my heart.
Maybe your daisy chain was a halo
and the fields that you danced on were clouds.
I think I finally understand.
I knew you as a person,
but maybe you weren't.
Maybe you were just an angel
that got lost along the way.
I'm waiting for the sun to rise;
going to cut these worldly ties.
Remembering summer reveries,
The autumn chill, the falling leaves.
Look at how we both have grown;
change for all the time we've blown.
Remembering the winters snow,
the stars above, the ground below.
Lets atone for throwing stones;
we can mend the broken bones.
Remembering that spring revives;
brings new light to cloudy skies.
The Mysidian Bard