Canyon Country, CA
Falling above a liquid sun
appears to be a lonely one.
Pulsing, beating, under my skin;
you are lost where I begin.
Tear at your heart, your conscience bear
the pain of denial, fret or care.
Dark and treacherous are your lies.
You are alive in the tortured skies.
Smile at your wisdom, hope to show
the only thought you do not know.
Breezes toss your sandy hair.
You and I are never there.
Wait for the bell, oh lonely guest,
to summon your faith on the unknown quest.
Smile at your lover, oh lovely face.
You hold the honour, I the disgrace.
Watch out the window, never fear;
there never was a villain here
except for you, bearer of sin.
You are lost where I begin.
~*~ Time erases and rewrites all the lines. What remains is the poetry! ~*~