Long ago.
Before the end.
There was man.
Up until,
the very wheel,
keeps turning.
Wait inside,
till the ride,
Of the storm passes.
I can feel it my veins.
But now,
a fire inside.
Nowhere to hide,
in the manor.
Heavenly gates.
Don’t be late,
to show God,
how you got that scar.
But now.
Sitting here.
The passage clear.
Daily lights that passes,
by the night.
There you are.
Don’t go far.
I think I need a guide,
to get me through,
the way.
It’s mellow where.
I see yellow flares.
Wave as each car,
drives by.
But now,
I can’t wait,
to rid the hate,
and feel the weight,
of my shoulders.
I see the fire.
It’s burning while,
the heat pushes on my face.
I’m waiting for,
the flame for more.
Across my face.
It’s too late.
It’s do or die.
End where I lie.
The watchman,
crosses time and space
Don’t worry now.
I know how,
to get there.
I just need air.
Can’t wait then go.
But all I know,
the passerby,
is still inside.
I try to stop,
but fall and drop.
I just need air,
to get me there.
Dry as a bone.
Can’t go home.
There is a light.
There is a fire.
