And as a Mountain bellows and the vivid flash claps, the rolling thunder down the cliff face crags. Whilst the heavy waters break the rivers banks. And the flashing excess reveals the Mountains face, these show natures true waves. vegetation are Mountains veins, and the arterys the river lanes. The gushing streams run with the Mountains blood. And although covered in shrubs, amassed in leaves, these reveal the life the Mountain breathes.
I’m a scrawled out name on tattered paper over a burning flame, well it’s all the same to me. Which place to reside, whom to greet, direction of travel and tongue to speak. Well it doesn’t matter to me. And I’ll reach the crossroads and I’ll know where to turn, mistakes are to be made, you live by what you learn. Your not my keeper, you’re just an entity, freedoms an illusion, but I know you’re no thief. And from this day forward, I’ll be able to see, finding my own ground, following my feet.
I can’t help but feel disconnected from society
edit; I know I’m probably not the only one
a Kifstgate rose clambers up a trunk like the blood through your veins. We all have our vices but we keep them at bay. No ones born good nor evil , but good will come to those who wait. Unclip the brass clasp, a flicker flint and the flame will pass. You won’t be meditating with the devil in purgatory so savour the taste and the sour smell. Beneath the incense burning and the prickled heat. Oh it gets under my skin, and the wooden casket taking its toll on me. Getting under my skin, getting under my skin, getting under my skin. Ours was never to do or to die, but to smoke and to stay high. Oh and how we did fly, how we did fly