Arisen the figure took her breath
but no longer the figure she could behold

Evil brainwork is at hand
her eyes on a stand

She knows why
but dares not penetrate

It is not hard to understand
as it is to uphold

Perplexion of her thought comes
from her incertitude

away from

Sunrise and morning dew
make it crisp to rubber boot

La estancia no esta lejos
and the figure isn't either

She tries to anchor
but it's too late
the ship has sailed and her horse knows

Something sinister in the horizon tempted
for a walk. Looking downhill she thought.
Walking upright she went.

A gazed voice asked
for her direction that to which she replied
a dirt path

Somehow she was taken in foreign dirt.

Word she was lorn.
Word she was torn.
Word she had left God.

Don't stare at the window
of my soul.

Not in the light
nor at midnight.

Lest we forget love
for it knows.

From the thick green to the jag grey giant.
It does not satisfy my eye.

Rather a smooth honey river and a sky full of cinnamon.

Not the dancing sea but still coffee beans.
An aurora is but aesthetic.

Crushing to shards my empty jar of emotions.
I lay in empty brown.

Take the road south of my aching heart.
This is the way I have chosen to part.
I've pulled my emotions out of my mind on to my tongue.
Now it's a mouthful of blood of swallow.
The sunken left side of the mattress is there because you were right.
I am incapable of loving your body.
I must learn with the heart first.
I am not proud to say that I have forced
upon me a a cloak of false love.
I used to pray to recover you.
I, seeking eternal warmth and you void of.
Off I go now to think in the grey.
Knowing I have written my last song
to the one I only kissed