Well I'm all alone once again
My lady rests as my mind tests
The sweet taste of these keys caress

I'm trying to make sense of this place
But the focus just ain't right
I don't know enough about that
And this hat, well, it just don't fit

But don't think that I'm aiming to quit
For the pick of the pine is sharp

I hear those drinking downstairs toss
Their darts as the dark engulfs
Every single last one of them
Praying for the lost line of their kin

No war on tonight
Only what they'll show us
Were too lazy to drive, you hear?
Someone else
Is going to go and do it for us
Perhaps even
Force it

Now
If I knew how to write about love
I would do it
But every time I do
The words just come out all wrong

I know not where the
Heart or the soul rests
For when I try
I foresee an image that
Has nothing to do
With any kind of truthful feeling
For truth has nothing to do with it
Every feeling is true
Even if it is Faked
By the seer or the feeler

Glasses of grey turns
Her head away from the storm
Shuffling bed spread, I hear
The wind of forgotten love affairs
Mixed now with tears of
Love that has come around finally
And again

Form takes my hand
I pull it away

Regrets ocean washes
Over my bare naked white feet

I attempt to regain
My hand in shaking pain

But her lifeline has slacked
Her eyes glazed as the sun's
Haze quotes itself again n' again

Day in, day out
The farmer's on crippled
Horizons, their backs bending as
They stack pile after pile
Of golden heated hay

Where here I ponder my own
Fortune
Future
Fortitude
Likeliness to
Survive the storm

And though I show
Not alone

There is the bite of the solitude winter
That brings each body to a state of a beginner
Chained to this we are slaves to that

I nod my head as the birds above me swirl
Hearing the tranquil quill stab its blackness
Into parchment that whimpers back unforgiving
Yet in my chest the heart continues to go on beating
No matter how much I thrash this body with each beating
The rock never wavers, the stone inside never retreating
Only below is where we see the dead defeating

But when I leave
With my chests final seethes

Touch not my soul nor
Chase to where it goes
For the morning for all
Is bright and should not be taken
With ill imagined fright