Monday, March 05, 2007

The Will to Go On

Throw me some of your stares,
mixed with disdain and scathing reviews
Would i give a damn or show some care?
Its like diamonds meeting the morning dew

In the end its me to be answered to
not another heart which beats semi-silent within
Even conscience i spit at, its protests noting nothing new
old as me is its tired, grotesque and guilt colored prism

Dig out the rotting caracass,
from the ancient grave of my soul, with passion
The tree bears fruit no longer, its all a farce
And the fire, its roots and leafless limbs, shall gather and ashen

The lessons of the giants are plain and simple
Just climb up and stand on the top mosts' shoulder
Lookout to see whats they have seen and treasured
Be open and ready to be the foundation of another

Propel the soul and the harley's motor,
since the highway's clear and the sky's not so blue
Then stick out the leather jacket collar
and ride into the inevitable storm thats always waiting for me and you

1 comment:

Arnab Pal said...

The joy imparted by breaking free
Of birds, blues and a tortured tree
Is what binds writer to fighters
And you dude has made that feel fly..