This isn't a word,its is a vision
The main crust of a saddled soul
Its a kind gesture of uncertainty
A heart lost in the world



Standing in the center of the Bermudian
Every action being judged by precedence
Let me show you the way over lost
This vision seems blu
I cant find my way out


I denote being taking away
Its fetal and dark amidst the light
Trenton pumps my heart ablaze
Ode to the wind of the cold noon



I wish not found to you
I lost not warmth to be bitter
Life of a painter without a brush
I rush to the cardinal,astray of the wide


Do not look at me because no sight no vision
Having judged all but a path
I see a mast in thy eyes