*His heart is a furnace,
Burning ever, furiously
And in the brightness, there is no language,
To try and describe what it is he sees,
Within his eyes of steel
He laughs at life, and grits his teeth,
To bear the weight upon his chest
A road of Tankas beneath his feet,
To pave his way,
Both in and out of the wilderness
And to speak his sound, is most profound,
But it will never sound out quite the way you think
Because his word are but a memory,
A jarring song, which for some reason,
He never bothers to sing
So you can wait, and you can hope,
That steely glance you might just catch
But hold your breath beside a furnace,
Because all things good, and all things burning,
Will not forever burn nor last*
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 1:20 AM UTC
*His heart is a furnace,
Burning ever, furiously
And in the brightness, there is no language,
To try and describe what it is he sees,
Within his eyes of steel
He laughs at life, and grits his teeth,
To bear the weight upon his chest
A road of Tankas beneath his feet,
To pave his way,
Both in and out of the wilderness
And to speak his sound, is most profound,
But it will never sound out quite the way you think
Because his word are but a memory,
A jarring song, which for some reason,
He never bothers to sing
So you can wait, and you can hope,
That steely glance you might just catch
But hold your breath beside a furnace,
Because all things good, and all things burning,
Will not forever burn nor last*
