We write late into the night,
words carved from barstools, conversations, and car drives.
Words borne from indecency, drawn out brawls, and fragmented memories
We write until the sun comes alive
and we see beastly revolutions
turn into beauty drenched by its brilliant rays
We write the tragedy the night has become
and immortalize our immoral defeats
for prosperity and time capsule memories
so that when we are old and broken and faded
we may recall the stories of our youth
with glimmers of hope
that there is
and always will be
the rebellion of life
coursing its way thru our veins
and that someday
we will go into the night again
And live like we were immortal