A fleeting image of a promise
Captured in the darkness
We took pictures of our victims
Our youth are those innocents
Who we share all of our shadows with
Tip-toeing over rusted fences
A trail of broken boards and ***** fingerprints
Left scattered haphazardly on the horizon
We run through dreams and over valleys
Life is a small part of a greater picture of reality
We walk, we talk and make love for naught
Like dinosaurs in the dawn of separation
Serpents sing for freedom at our gregarious dinners
Lust is a book best written for beginners