In the blink of an eye of a hurricane,
In the nick of time after time,
In the heat of the night of the living dead,
It is I for whom the bells chime.
In the midnight hour of decision,
In the moonlit sky filled with stars,
I am cut with a scalpel’s precision,
My blood flows, but soon will be scars.
My only friends will betray me,
My own words have a venomous taste,
I can spit at those who would slay me,
For I’ve outrun all the demons I chased.
In the blink of an eye of a needle,
In the nick of time running out,
Perhaps one more time I can wheedle,
The voices within me to shout.
Phil Lindsey 1/8/17
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 12:52 PM UTC
In the blink of an eye of a hurricane,
In the nick of time after time,
In the heat of the night of the living dead,
It is I for whom the bells chime.
In the midnight hour of decision,
In the moonlit sky filled with stars,
I am cut with a scalpel’s precision,
My blood flows, but soon will be scars.
My only friends will betray me,
My own words have a venomous taste,
I can spit at those who would slay me,
For I’ve outrun all the demons I chased.
In the blink of an eye of a needle,
In the nick of time running out,
Perhaps one more time I can wheedle,
The voices within me to shout.
Phil Lindsey 1/8/17
