LOST Love.
i commit to the submission of your love, i feel the fire burn as it hurts so good, understood your pain in the trial of miscommunication, where we bolth feel frustrated over peoples lies, giving into the sensation of negative vibes so we start to decline. leaving us diveded into two unpredictable guids. We Remain unpatient that's why we cry for tomorrows night. Tears of sarrow flow from her eyes tightning up , i barrow time hoping she don't lose our love in this traggedy of mine. but it always happens tragicly combinding colision mixed with unloyalty depicting what could of been brighter then the suns shine. but the wine she drinks makes her heart less and the blood thin, breaking free from loves clinch and so the pain starts up again, and as gone with the wind replays in this closed cage. Fate always seems to open a new door in this conflicting maze. Entering another chapter, feeling less shame everytime the next page erases a lost love exchange. Leaving the same question, maybe i was the one to blame.. then again who doesn't like to play in the rain

Blood on my hands doesnt wash clean as that from my mind.
in temptation we did bask for moments in despair I know
all to well.

A fool to imagine a ghost but in a less than empty room.
Sweet girl dont try to see beyond that which laughs befor you.
Im a shipwreck in low tide.
A vessel to long ive tasted  time in it's bitter affliction.

A page away from a traggedy a night less in thought.
Behind the mask you'll find no reason.
Strangers we shall remain togather in this bed.
My words nothing more than fragment of a driffters heart.

Black and white images sharp tell stories i do not
wish to share.
Wine glimmers in crystal by the fire's light.
Towards a lesser man you lean to fill a need.
****** of the pen bleeding in thought.

The night's end and a comfort does point without direction.
The shoe if worn isnt all it seem's to be.
Ive cast stones breaking emotions to uncover all
that isnt me.

Sharing less more than friction then with light i'll trace
curves never speaking in my lies truth.
Im a ******* but least im real.

They want a devils fire in trade of a moments
encounter to seethe picture for what it is  seldome is as
beautiful as dellusions of a dream.

Moments no matter there timeframe always stay.
like scars there forever on display.

I take pictures only in thought and paste secrets of beauthy apon
my minds cluttred wall.
Whispers of passion regrets I cherish so dear.
Shared a nights velvet inside more than thought.
Although in this moment i share space.
Im never truely here.

And in mornings light just maybe happines in thought.
leaves the warmth in the emptyness behind.
Althougth far from a companion in flesh within memory
you shall exist in this jaded mind.

He stared off into the distance a stranger to all including himself.
Often when men stand apon that ledge there is little to be said befor the leap.
We all joked poured drinks and passed beer's paying little are no true attention
like the word we mocked we were ******* far from friends.

I saw the thought and spoke nothing I cant stop a trainwrweck  yet i can always get a good view.
He knew like a sappy western sundown would bring death  in a lost stance.
Even with a slight buzz I always saw the view of destruction in a writer reason with poetic sense.

I gotta go there was no soundtrack to warn no ******* follows traggedy
only seconds were left a hourglass count began silent to drunks and in honest
verse none would care.

He handed me his last beer and without question I knew goodbye was not a question.
The chapter had been written.
dark clouds didnt set the canvas to what would happen are laughter matched the light of a early summers embrace.

The sirens i'll always remember the the sirens a invite to a choas coated scene.
The others only looked in that puzzled deer in the headlights moment.
Doc  as we knew him had left the party  drove a mile down the road  
and turned a relaxing friday evening to a day spoke about in often twisted truth.

What had caused it?
A woman as simple as that a fight over a married woman and between the
two neither was her husban.

At the scene it was a sureal event  a fight had broke out Donald  laid
face down in the yard a blood spattred bloated lawn ornament from hell.
And in the truck the man I knew as friend in only names sense lay slumpped over the wheel.

It's a strange thing to absord in one's mind movies are just ****** up lies.
And the source of this chaos went unscathed.
And like any small town it would be talk of every conversation.

And like a snowball from a fragment it turned into a story that held no truth.
And with time it was forgotten replaced by gossip's ever turning wheel.
All had forgotten but I never have for it replays like some ****** up theater act within my thoughts.

Yeah i hate that ******* id love to scatter his brains across the the floor.
the ******* of anger seldom faces the reallity's of truth.
Whats behind the dark glasses is  more than foder for a barooms laughter.

More truths are in jokes than a simple conversation.
Ive viewed the trainwreck often in my life.
But this is just one view into many of my life's backpages.

I often hide behind laughter.
And shield my reallitys to mask what none should understand.
You were more than a memory sorry I never did more.

Most forgot but I never have.

       Dedicated to Russel Bishop.