You are a smokey memory
It brings a light to my eyes to think of you
What could I say to the leaving of my life
To ask you to come back home
Would mean everything to the shallowness I wallow in
Mindful in my retreating
It does very little for a wandering mind and stationary feet
I have found my humility in begging gods dead and lost alike
Though wherever I find them it seems their ears have been shut with the worries of the world
This storm has stamped my skin and the ink runs wild in my veins
Time will check its reigns
A wanderer is never lost
A spirit restless never sleeps
This to shall pass
I bite empty promises into my lip
I dig a grave for my stamina into the palms of hands with my nails
There is such an emptiness to be found in tomorrow
Your hope for her is not a dangerous one
Yet we forget the wisdom of yesterday as quickly as she is lived
Oh the mutterings of my mind
It is worth pennies in the street