Hope is Dashed
None of he music,
None of the soul,
None of the reality,
Just a Great Big Hole,
The only thing to late to start, is never and I've gotten REALLY good at never.
The Age
The Ghost of Old Age,
Talking to the Youth of My Days,
All about the turning of page,
And all my changing of ways.
When it boils down,
The grease will fly,
And sink into my frown,
All the reasons why.
The searching never ends,
Feet falter on the steps,
The mind lost in the Bends,
Lying on the Alter of Princeps.
Lost, lost ,lost. In the end, never found. Found, found, found, from the beginning always bound.
Pyre
Ah, Burning of the Man!
May the sparkes never land!
The hopes of the desperate make,
A funural pyre and it's wake.
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