Tuesday, October 14, 2008

This is it

This is it,
no more fumbling
Its coming fast like a train
Inevitable and unstoppable

Blasting its horn, blaring
beating, chugging down the tracks
Will I see the red light?
Or just open my arms and wait for oblivion
Destruction, Eternity

Will I even try to stop?

Its one of those hot dry days outside
And my eyes are burning a hole through her
Can you see kindness?
I'm searching but I can never seem to find it
At least not before its too late
before its just a swaying saint
ascending to heaven with a halo 'round its neck

Talking to you is like singing in the dark
One sided and pathetically useless

But it's such enticing therapy