Where a man goes
Often in repose,
Alone in candle light.-
Right. By his own designs...
He doesn't have to answer,
Can drop the role of dancer
And take just whatever.-
Endeavours he has on his mind
As fully as the coming breeze
Breathing in how it frees
His thoughts and ambitions.-
Intuitions resparked because of this...
Where a man goes
To lay down his axe, he knows.-
That in the moment when his body quiets.-
Riots cease and he can dream.|
That no one or thing,
Regardless of the news or excitement it would bring,
Cannot shake him, wake him or.-
Roar so loud as to be noticed.
This is where a man goes in fear.
Where when poverty and idle living, and beer.-
Cloud body and mind.-
Grind hope to crumbs.|
And stand on the perch of desperation,
Alone in fear and perspiration,
Dying for something to do,
Viewing savings turn to dried flies.
Returning always to where a man goes,
Delaying what he knows
To be all too true.
Do or die, or start anew.-
I think it's been a full year since I last wrote something.
An anonymous reading: https://soundcloud.com/user608182312/where-a-man-goes