in the spanish quarter
her eyes fixed on the dim light passage
as she awaits the coming hand of deceptions
with her recital of whispers like a prayer
she sweats openly
to her its a pressure point at the breaking
its a devils delight in the black heart of evil men
so as the wick of her flame clings to its purpose
as it burns true to pure
as you knew it would
you sit by her side
wait out the hours
forsake the dawn it never comes to this desolate place
forsake all trust love hope
they fled this desolate place
stand for who you are
stand for rights victory over wrong
truth even if it means your death

the television whispers and flickers
its the only sing of life in the
thick heat of the semi-darkness
the air itself takes on a life of its own
closing in around you personal heavy confining
you speak to the empty room
just to put a tangible lapse in the silence

a sickly thin line of sunlight  
wriggles in past a rip in the curtain
and falls mutely on the ***** linoleum floor
slowly creeping across the cracks and stains
illustrating them in brilliant color
daylight slips away
silence

the devil on his cold horse
and it was that darkness which had
given birth to this grand scheme
she walks in a forest of streetlights
brushes one hand on their eternal pools of amber light
the devil on his cold horse
walks slow on the pavements by her side
leading to the overthrown cities
step into the fractured tower
and look up at the starlight sifted by clouds
isnt it pretty isnt it grand

the child walks down north avenue
the world around him are hues of autumn
he knows every crack and crevice of the sidewalk
he has made this trek a thousand times
home from roosevelt school in wykagyl
passing the time dreaming boyish dreams
of traveling to far away strange and wonderful places
of knowing people like her

she was as beautiful as summer sunshine
soft voice embracing the heart with her tender notions
her face fills his mind with the softest of smiles
to know someone like her
a lifetimes treasured hope

the little bridge over the stream
autumn sunlight through the tall trees
kicking his way through the fallen leaves
remembering them as they stirred of their own mind
in late summer nightfall breeze
the golden hue of these northern woods leaves now entices
his thoughts to those of halloween and christmass
to snowballs and roaring fires in the fireplace
his family home decorated and filled with laughter's joy
twinkling lights so bright and glorious

he comes to the last hill
and home
footsteps fall quickly now
to his front door
to his room and toys
hidden and happy home sweet home once again
from his window he dreams
of running in the snowfall
of tasting the first stirring of spring
a world of wonders to his boyish heart