doves drowning in the storms wicked air watch with empathy as they struggle in the thrashing tides of the rainswept sky watch as the fall from grace in the warm tears of rain
bernie was waiting on doomsdays last train he kept his lunch in a sack along with the face he gonna wear when he comes up fore the good lord but what worried him was if the other fella had his ticket he would toss his coin on the hand he was dealt a good man misunderstood a simple man living a complex life
contortionist of the fable she wrote her own storied life on the back of a matchbook cover after all its the flame of her heart that set ablaze many a mans inner pervert she is waiting on that last train too with a devilish certainty of her destination but she aint too worried she knows hell is just like miami in july
doves nestled in the hands of time make a soft sound that stirs the heart sounds like a love affair sounds like free flight on a summer breeze feels like home