Golden Oaks
Rise
Against the Vast Grey Sky
Its time to go fishing for souls
With My Bloodshot Eyes.
Come, My Love,
time does not stand still
For your stare or sighs,
You and I must go
Fishing For Souls
With our bloodshot eyes
The World will run around
In A Wild goose Chase,
for Their share of
Truth and lies
You and I must go
Fishing for souls
With our bloodshot eyes.
Silent Churches will call for myths
And Merry drinkers
Will continue to make love
To their good Ol' Rye
You and I must go
Fishing For Souls
With Our Bloodshot eyes.
A journey has begun,
An eternal river crossed,
The waters therein,
Have run dry.
But still we must go
Fishing For Souls
With our bloodshot eyes.
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2 comments:
Unto a Rembrandt's palette
words swim with the colors,
Ache it forgoes the American pie
Just a whistle for self, others
you and i
Salvation it rests
with thoughts poured into a die.
The first weekend n u r all rock n roll Babes :)
As you enter a new world with its own charms and fancies not imaginable to the human mind, I wish you luck. Such poems will be a solace :)
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