My will is salt and vinegar,
I have no excuses,
They are as embarrassing as pendulums,
As the sands reign down,
Holding your dry flowers as symbols of memorabilia,
Our lasting truths,
Our lasting faith.
I don’t know if I can be saved,
Or if in fact I choose to.
My aviary wings have been so denied,
To function, I have shown wino’s that
They are helpless,
I’ve been living here for three hundred years,
Flying blind tasting blood and tears,
While withered leaves fall,
Throughout the seasons past,
As life is ever lasting,
Like bearing pain, perhaps…
She drills through me like hurricane,
And leaves her path of debris,
I can see, but no longer achieve,
What I began to believe.
I need to sleep,
Presently, or forever.
I am complete and dried up,
I’ll do this your way.
I’ll finish it your way til seasons past ,
For less, or no bother.
I envision a union alas.
I have even left for a while…..