You Take Me For A Cur?

Taking away everything that I hold dear,

Leaving me empty with a message oh so clear,

Washing away any remnants of sunshine,

Darkness sits heavy on this heart of mine.

 

Whirling me fast, turning me round and round,

Till I am dazed and I fall to the ground,

Losing all I ever had in this ne’er ending life,

Punched in the face, playing sport with a knife.

 

Tossing me up, throwing me with disdain,

The sun burns me, so does the bad rain,

Toying with me, kicking me like a cur,

Forgetting how friends we once were.

 

I die a thousand deaths, before my time,

The bells they toll, before they are to even chime,

You laugh, a thousand daggers pierce me,

You are a devil and that’s all you’ll ever be.

Musings of a Wanderer

I am but a traveller,

Trudging through the sands of time,

Quenching my thirst from the fountains of remembrance,

A struggling actor in a pantomime.

 

I have written letters,

Without meaning to send ‘em to anyone,

I strew them now on the oceans of past,

Washed away, A past forever gone.

 

I have seen hatred,

And I have seen love,

I have seen the horrors of war,

And the peace of a white dove.

 

I have heard the blackest tongue,

And felt the heart of the dark,

I have seen the edge of the night,

And I have heard the morning lark.

 

I am but a traveller,

On a journey ne’er meaning to end,

Doors open, stairs appear all around me,

Beckoning me to ascend.

 

I am but a wanderer,

Meandering through the sands of time,

Quenching my thirst from the fountains of remembrance,

A struggling actor in a pantomime.