NOVEMBER’S GONE WITH THE WIND

Sometimes I stare a while at my face

An icon for this moment then slowly losing pace

The second chance that never dawns today

Turns the wheels-eternity

The fragrance of bleak doom’s bouquet

Sadly turns decay

Black light over me

Reflections in deep purple sour

Blacker shadows of these hours

And losing steam…

No mystery holds a candle toward the flame

To shadow massive shame

Comes the morning

Who will dare me to go the distance?

To hear the calling

The river down below

A hundred voices calling out

A certain way to figure out the end

Lyrics by L. Poems  copyright 1998, all rights reserved