Songster

Thunder made promises

That couldn’t be kept.

Misuse of diamonds and gold

Led to my coming here

Where the only currency

Is blood and coal.

A fire burns in my blood.

For all the derisive laughter,

The mockery that chilled me

To the living

And made me dig a hole

Toward the dead,

I still remain a breathless breather,

A staunch representative

Of the human race.

Love left its child’s face

Imprinted on my mind

And the moon laughed at my phony disbelief

As I wandered around,

Projecting my nerves into the world

Like the black sheep of songsters.

The road back has been destroyed

By the remnants of my footsteps,

And I now enjoy the garden

As it was meant to be enjoyed.