Wreaths of mist swirled up into the cold air
As I looked at my grave in despair.
It was in disrepair and could not be saved.
Am I such a depraved knave that
I was waived my rights for a better place of interment?
I can not get over the convalesce
that this will be my permanent address.
I played the saint.
A saint I'm ain't.
No one heard my plaints.
But I heard your complaints.
Gave you tainted words.
No wonder I am where I am.
Wreaths of mist swirled up into the cold air
as I said my prayers.
A foursquare refusal to yield
to this grave, to this field.
To life and all it's strife.
To death and it's last breath.
I blocked my ears to the whispers
and it did stop the fate spinners.
Leaving destiny
at my mercy.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 6:39 PM UTC
Wreaths of mist swirled up into the cold air
As I looked at my grave in despair.
It was in disrepair and could not be saved.
Am I such a depraved knave that
I was waived my rights for a better place of interment?
I can not get over the convalesce
that this will be my permanent address.
I played the saint.
A saint I'm ain't.
No one heard my plaints.
But I heard your complaints.
Gave you tainted words.
No wonder I am where I am.
Wreaths of mist swirled up into the cold air
as I said my prayers.
A foursquare refusal to yield
to this grave, to this field.
To life and all it's strife.
To death and it's last breath.
I blocked my ears to the whispers
and it did stop the fate spinners.
Leaving destiny
at my mercy.
