I find myself in a storm I knew where I was going Yet I am surprised That God is crying out Water from his eyes Me by myself My worries and my fears I knew where I was going How did I still end up here? Then I see the lights The only offering of guidance They keep me from going astray Without them surely The ditch is where I would lay I've seen these lights before In following my older brother In the kind words of a friend The proud teardrops of my mother They were there all along Showing me the way Were it not for them The ditch is where I would lay
Wrote this one night after driving home through a very bad thunderstorm. Hope you enjoy!
It is this day, today, that we lose. We lose the skies and everything goes. We go to the clouds. Nothing matters there. We are like the man laying in the ditch ***** in his hands. Cold, wrinkled fingers. The woman, arms wrapped, tightly, around the toilet bowl Now limp in her grave. We, collectively, lie looking to the skies. That's where we'll be... soon. The air, full of smog will clear. That is not a hope it's a Promise.
if you are reading this, which is highly unlikely just know I tried to fix it and I am sorry I hate that this was a scare but hurting you is not something I could bear surely you know that by now if not I don't know how a misunderstanding is all it was I would never mention your name not even to the stars above I hope this makes you laugh and puts your mind at peace I'll see you in fifty-seven days hopefully until then we'll pass both our tongues-in-cheek.
oh, come on you know this was genius. laugh you *******.
once upon a time standing high with you i was taken to a cliff and was pushed down by you with the help of your band.. nothing left to hold on but an extending hand midway, i could hold only to get pushed further down... crushed to pieces when hit the hard ground found myself alive destined to survive slim chances to revive... the pain spilled i quilled and rebuild myself on the heap of my write... now i am standing high stronger safer and better at my own.... now you are being thrown hanging at the same cliff by the same people who helped you once to push me should i offer my hand or quietly bestand or join the band?
Us three little kids run amok through the nights creating our own mischief and creating our own frights. We sneak up concrete steps that lead to wooden doors and ring the bells right next to them and run away on all fours Who? You ask, that we ding-**** ditch, we've pranked humans, monsters, and once even a witch. We once rang the door during the day of some creeper and nearly had a meeting with the grim reaper. But that did not stop our tricky ways so we ding-**** ditch death, always. For we're not the children of daylight we are the children of the night