A path was cast aside for your arrival,
I was preparing our sanctuary amongst the burning flowers,
They flare and smoulder into smoking ashes,
Lost days thoughts are the language of our dreams,
You ignited the weapon in me amongst other delicacies,
I’ll still rise with a roar, rage and omit it all,
The grinning devils underneath the shrubbery,
Knew the score and how I felt exactly,
What they did to you was a set move quite frankly,
Its how they work, calculated and deviously,
Consequences didn’t matter to me,
I could smell the darkness of incense and its insecurities,
I wished for a bell tower and rifle to accompany me,
I went for a walk to dispel my anger then I saw some graffiti,
Under an arch of a railway bridge next to a stream “love has no ending to me”,
A voice loomed from the adjoining trees,
Sent a shiver up my spine reminding myself how dangerous I used to be,
Where ever I see a wild flower amongst the pale green grass it reminds me,
Of the fabric of blue squares of that path made to bring you towards me.
Like John says, Jason,’classy’, I can smell the flowers burning and hear those devils tugging on your thoughts! Surreal rage and regret…
wild flower among the pale green grass – classy stuff, Jason. Very nive