violent redin an autumn skysomething is not right but it kind of is
The sin eaters are long since gone,
choked to death on the generational build up
that clogged the Faith.
Tonight, the crickets are singing their beautiful lies
Of a world not half dead
At least that’s what I hear in their cryptic lyrics.
Does that make me a romantic?
It’s hard to know for sure.
oh well…Crickets freak me out anyway.
One really shouldn’t sing through their legs if they want to be taken seriously.
You fat cats in your filibuster suits
A world which shines from its own inner glow.
My mind wandered to stories told to me.
I was sure the dark shadow below
The surface was the awful whale of old
Welcome to my world.
Excuse the mess,
I’ve not had company here before.
Calm amongst the chaos.