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writing Off the Wall

Updated: Sep 24, 2020

die here

so you are clear

not to take the side of fear

but to grip to the point of love

rushing through your chest

as you think of how blessed

this test might have been too meta

bet ah I'm on the way

traffic blocking my lane

I'll knock it around with my brain

till it's all flowing the same

down the stream, our shame drains

the great place stays in place

without fading into grace

seeing through the games you play

tracing it back to that day

taking out my lost ways

tasting many faiths

without finding a place


dave calls me from his thrown of disgrace

against the ways held in place

what did I sayeth

your mass grave awaiteth

your haste

slow down to the sound of sound

vibrating unbound

grounding this ground on to my crown

earned through what I don't deserve

too faithful to get curved

I'm sticking to what you heard

are spears flying passed your herd

on the way to murder the One in the last place

but I stand tall in faith and take them all on my shoulder

I don't know how long I can hold her

maybe if I'm a little bolder

naw you are bound

to be sold with her

don't fall for her curves

she selling them all for her lunch

hunger eating at her stomach

needing something more than murder

cover the covers with others

taking fathers

taking sons for thunder

scared of what slumbers

in the crumbling lumber

forward to take the sword

needed to have a nerve

and not have to jump at every turn

the runner is chasing the service

to the end of bliss

stretching that wish into a grin

men can look at without sin

shifting our need to something else

deeply in need of help

for the self who only sees it's self

then endless stress

will finish this mess

guess you've seen blood

flooding the torn

I don't know anymore


but forward

I wonder

can you get DoorDash here

I don't know, talk to the seer

stalking behind the bleachers

who says he wouldn't want to be her

as he cuts her throat to bleed 'er

stepping back to admire his work

he let it slip

it is fun to feed sir

I step to his side

hold his hand tight

let go of my pride

and loved him

no lie


he slams the knife into my side

coughing up blood he looks deep in my eyes

love is not my type

I would rather see you die


the blood dripping from his chin

I grabbed his arm and pulled on him

he twists the knife deeper inside

I finally pulled him into my arms with a hug

that's right

his hand slips from the hilt

on to father time

he closes his eyes

for the first time in weeks

I whisper see

love isn't so hard to find

then he starts to cry

why are you sad my light

step back and except your sight

as he opens his eyes

to the pure white light







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Abstracted

polished lawless brawl fills the city holes pretty little seamless blemish attracted to no avail it will trusted well prevent a past decent catchme hail to this and breath endlessly for symphony

TIP

BACH

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