Signs that might be seen as omens send me on my way the daylight waning for today and luck still ****** on display flying close to dangerβs coven
The wind blows fortuneβs empty cast as trackless dreams setout dispelling hope and bringing doubt without a name to even tout caught within tomorrows fast
I see each warning clearly now they speak much like a friend whose words as tokens try to bend rushing blindly toward the end captured voices left to bow
Those signs that led me all point down the road is changing fast no clear distinction first from last my future ****** to be my past β the devils fiddle calling loud