A Tempest turns a pile of leaves,
As autumn evacuates the scene.
Buttoned-down, and painted green,
The liar and the jester sing.
If you could walk across that earth,
And bring your heart back to that hearth,
If you could learn to breathe again,
Would it mean "we" again?
I'm not opposed to fighting,
But don't require that I win.
It breaks me, burns me, bleeds me,
And accuses me my sins.
Created: Jun 19, 2017thriftypassenger Document Media