Even in the darkest hour
Staring down the jaws of death
I can feel your sacred power
Drawing toward my final breath
In the throes of static cling
Attraction at a level saved
For adolescent midnight flings
Words we thought we’d never brave
–
Upon vibrating heartstrings strummed
Stories told in present tense
The Memories in songs we’ve hummed
Recounted out of self defense
They tell us who we wish we were
Our aspirations laying bare
And dreams admonished in a blur
Reality, more self aware
–
I wouldn’t say that in this place
The things I wish I hadn’t done
Would wear the wrinkles on my face
As if a battle had been won
I know, I know, the path I chose
Would play itself eventually
But here, perhaps, I feel exposed
In all, the man I tried to be.
–
A legacy of stillness, yes,
The two who bore a single pen,
Our history is nothing less
Than how a story happens when
Commitment, love, and happiness
Are to be earned through time apart
A future certain, no one guessed
That with the pen we shared a heart.
–
A light above, a glimpse below
With eyes as wide as open sky
Dilation none could ever know
But everyone is certain why.
A smaller breath to see beyond
The present tense he lives within
Endings tend to correspond
With the way that they begin.