He was out of his mind
Over ruthless rivers of gin
Top heavy, with a young man’s curse
Of free-will and pheromones

Three shots
And he was off, into the wind and rain
Down an old friendly road
That had long served him well

But familiarity, was stolen from him
In a gust of remorse
Beneath the white-hot glare of a lamppost

And with weak-knees, he crumbled
Into the rush of the pitiful gutter
Swept along, with a million lost years

He was swept up once more
By an admirer from eras long past
Her raven locks drenched and matted

For the rescue of a fool
Her most dear, and devoted of fools
Who shuddered, in the warmth of her voice

Their home was drawn open
As they stormed
Through the quaint halls of the past
In a blend, of walled-away rage,
And lust and redemption


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s