Love crashes around the lover like a rock filled land
Eerily perched above on the cleft like a bird for prey
Scented with waves, crushed roses, and dead rocks
Even the little flowers that love to live between the edges
Are void of all life, wilted and dead lying on the rocks
This is the end of the world
This is where no man roams
Not even the ugly wenches
Or the moody trolls cursing
Grace this spit with life
Abuse me, like a well worn sweater
Worn down from the gravity of time
Warmed over from a cold wind
Fall leaves, slowly spinning
Downward, with the passage of time
Upwards with the momentum of life
Through, within, alive, growth
We live in blissed blasphemy
Secretly kissing the angels
Of the memories we once longed for
To late, time doesn’t wait
Downward, downward, downward they fall
Screaming for glory, one last moment
Alive, grasping, dead, cycle
Well fed
Tonight
I shall
Come home
Not dead