It takes balls, hell, it takes every inch, to keep spinning. To talk of flowers, or the death,

The port city and it’s secrets, The Sicilians drapes hung in the… The ghosts beyond the limestone wa… The sad holy brush of James Walsh… The sanctity of the unknown,

Brush teeth, Planes overhead, People I’ll never meet, Some words just dance, your words dance.

To sin enough, is to sin forever, shine dull nor pure, but fear!, fear the end. Does it end after night, or at the end of the day!

There’s not enough time, Not for seeing the world, no no But feeling alive, To hold your friend when they weep… For being in a hole,

We are like pebbles on a beach. Brought by the tide, yet not born from it. Sitting, and waiting,

Soon as the sun, as life becomes d… I flow with a heart, all the worst… No more can I mourn, myself as I… It’s bright and it’s sad, but toda… like the years gone before, or the…

Wake to the sun on fire, a wandering wisp of a dream, In it’s forgotten desire, a candle… as a sonnet sings sentiment as bri… What is a plum situation,

Etched, in the valleys of the moon, staring from or to. Blazing the night, The autumn heat returns,

The doubt of spring, makes winter warm, when all is cold is now gone, The sparkle of night, and the seasons change,

I couldn’t think, of anything worse. From the outside, Looking in. Draining your soul away,

A drink. A sip. I sip you and you sink me. The empty bottle, is the saddest sight.

Oh dreaded day, bring light! Nothing less than the beauty that you are, The whispers and winds in mind, Shackled, deranged, slightly mad,