Sweat stained brim towers above
The tense eybrows that twitch in repose
Direction and discernment rearing shove
Window cocked listening to the winds prose
A transfer of solar bliss brushes the arm
As the fist clenches tight the braided cargo
Return to the stench of a familiar false alarm
Confiding in the dribble from dialogue from Fargo
Don'tcha Know
Eyes glance through the dashing foliage
Presuming adventure of the pioneer past
Intrepid contellations remain on the same page
Fading memories fighting to forever last
Nooses for old friends and comrades
The shadows of legacy to be left unfulfilled
Traversing into nodadic and schemed tirades
Nearing the day futility has finally been killed
Speech rolls off of a drunkard's waving tongue
Descendants from the popular farce play on
Love being caressed and then placed back on it's rung
Wondering if the seldom movements were ever wrong
Words fall to the ground and float overhead
The solace found in hope's gleaming eye is all thats afloat
Synopsis of the cliff notes of life still on my bed
Wondering who would have had these words wrote
Grammar plays on through the night as a dying breed
Language drifting like the Appalachian semi
Word becoming flesh for the illiterate to feed
Love breathed out of a smoke ring tepid in all it ever touches
Rhyme dies off yet posture remains
Through the noise of combustion and convolution
The revolution on the verge of a myth
Spurs on the noble and hopeless alike
With the large hand that holds the bruised
And breathes life into the embers of disillusion
A future is certain
A past is distorted
A present is over scrutinized
Be still and know
He is God
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