But what are the for comings of such a life I live.
Minds of gone, taken away of many and less a few to give.

Yet looking through the small glimse of the looking glass, seeing these old shadows of doubt.
Placed on hold in my heart at such a particular spot. This be where I find my mount.
Still where do Lone Rangers ride to in a sunrise already down
Where do lost dreams find themselves on my face with the makeup upon me like a clown.

Yet do own clowns laugh at their own jokes without the painted smile
Spoken though are the many words you don't say beneath the trial.

Such trials of common error and us many making many more mistakes.
Yet the harder lessons are what sticks most to the heart yet the revelation of such is of what has me in breaks.

Still what is man's commonality if everyone out there has shut eyes on different things,
The endless game of life chess being played is at most the worst of flings.

Still hear to these words before you fall to the prey of deaf.
Try to face all fears but be warned of running quickly to your own death.