Dull raindrops leaving trails down the glass
As they land in my mug brimming with
Feelings of missed opportunity and swatches of colors
That have all bled into something of a cloudy grey
Clouds that hold demons at bay behind sheets of rain
Fires that burn in the cold quiet mornings
Pronounced and protruding slowly it comes to me
Sinister thought crimes that etch themselves woven lines
Plots long forgotten and discarded memories
Pronounced as it seems, still slowly It inclines
And out from the shadows painted by steady hands
Carved out of mistakes, they know from the memory
Creatures are calling me, out from the darkness
Festering innocence offers me a reply
Each one was made from the stroke of a pen
And what sort of unknowns have I begun to deify
They were made for me
They call my name, still taunting me
All I can do to stay here a while more
Ending my efforts in each ignored symphony
Along the back wall and in every corner
As soon as my back is turned, they all start whispering
I try and hide away
Still, I hide away
The forest is shrouded by miles of brickwork
Fast talking incongruity
Of iconography, smoke stacks birthing machinery
That's how it starts
And here I hide away
Insert haunting acoustic guitar solo here
