We’re all crystal Methodists,
Our beauty drips from our eyes;
Falling fake, forcing fatigue in
The backseat when we take our
Our verses are so free-based and so arcane.
I walked on without anything to say,
The leather of my hands was coarse
And my hope was frayed. I wonder
If things may have been different,
If things may have been better if
I had stayed there with you.
My verses are so free-based
And arcane, like the acidic love
I swore I commanded in your tainted
Name. Things have changed since
I departed. I’ve seen my world
Collapse and I’ve danced with our memories and dreams un-started.
What we had was not shadowed and blown
Down to the weeds with doubt; it was
Rotted out with confidence, rising up from
Fears we denied. In spite of those many
Stiff oak mornings in your forest of lies,
It’s forever in your arms I want to be,
Even as the planet dies.