For a moment take my hand
As we run from the madness
Yes, the one that eats at your soul

The clock is ticking
As you start pacing back and forth
Hoping that this demon will rid you

This time you have a comrade
In a war that weakens the mind
As it buries the heart in dark ditches

For once let your smile be the maestro
Rather than the strings of some violin
See, when you let your passion become dust
The world watches as you are spread thin by the wind

Memory flickers pale and bright
across dark future plains
of life still seen through lens
of hope, yet soon denied,

delights of flesh and feelings
once filled with urgency of need
now on oblivion's nearing edge
of certain end do ride,

every part of being part
of what you are now frays
against approaching end of days
beyond which no life can abide,

and from the absolute of end
there is no fleeing nor escape,
no frantic pleas for life's addition
or hopeful compromise.

a tower I built
from bones of freedom
sown with ash and skins
of treason

darted through with
cutlery silver
forked tongues
that did deliver

and smoking eden
from atop I gazed
the fires of pyres
that the dead did
craze

and my silhouette
bride and I did
reside

Hells penthouse
panoramic pad

The wild plums are ripened now
along the old grown up fence line
using them we'll rediscover how
to make jellies and home made wine

So let's get our buckets out today
and walk across the pasture there
while warm winds make pine trees sway
we'll pick our plums and stories share

The plums are ripe yellow and red
a bumper crop from this spring's rain
this bounty of fruit nature bred
will be this fall and winter's gain