Downwind crossroads are reckless sacrifices.

The opening that appears, like a window

half open that encourages. The day was without

fences or caution. The curtains on your stage are pulled

back, preparing for an entrance.

Corridors of thoughts testify the betrayal where

the eye opening tracks remain quiet now but

stir the air, preparing for change.

Midnight is calling, where late fires scatter the

ashes under starry skies as promises rise to

the surface on a highway where angels sing.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s