Looking down, and looking ahead.
The rush of writing while stuck on a ledge.
I loved another man and now I'm dead.
A pounding chest heard in back of my head.
Just a glimpse, a lonely thread- knowing it simply had to end.
Undercover in the covers, let the lovers run for another.
Raining needles find no thread.
Caught in the cross fire and now I'm dead.
Just a moment, I saw a glimpse.
Oh what a delusion indeed!
Delusions of something sacred, not broken down by the road, but with a working engine!
A machine with something working, something perfect, something worth it, something perfect.
Rebuttal of the past and a subtle kiss that had to prove it.
Prove that love is real and love is love-
Oh, but that fades and this man takes the medicine,
putting down that red brush again.
Dangerous thoughts for that man.
He can’t paint the nasty truth. Alone Man in an apartment, in the corners of his room?
Too scared to love another, to scared to even move.
Type writer for hire, under fire, under fire.
All hail the man biting the bullet. Just a boy with his musket and no direction.
The lover who lost it. The one who rose above it.
The one who can write about it- and never have it.