4 views
Old Comfort
I've found rest in the lion's den
The lines of scrimmage read past my head
The writing on the wall says I should prepare
For old comfort swims near
Her dotting eyes kill butterflies
Pale skin in this moonlight
Cold ash scattered on a patterned red rug
She was stabbed in the chest with a bull's horn
She was promising and it was Friday
Grey linen suit watching an ant pick up a strand of her hair
Long legs casting a shadow on her boss in his badly lit lair
The stress I put her through shinning bright and glare
The devil clasping his lips not to break the silence in the air
God teaching a lesson on how sin won't edify men
My Darling looked to his feet
Linking lines like broken concrete
Running sole to shot gun
Demeanour weathered by rum
She stayed and cured him of boredom
I was on the other side of town burdened by the cross
She was Simon and I was Jesus
Jumping above the rim reaching a loss
Giving my word as the tides tossed
© Abiola
The lines of scrimmage read past my head
The writing on the wall says I should prepare
For old comfort swims near
Her dotting eyes kill butterflies
Pale skin in this moonlight
Cold ash scattered on a patterned red rug
She was stabbed in the chest with a bull's horn
She was promising and it was Friday
Grey linen suit watching an ant pick up a strand of her hair
Long legs casting a shadow on her boss in his badly lit lair
The stress I put her through shinning bright and glare
The devil clasping his lips not to break the silence in the air
God teaching a lesson on how sin won't edify men
My Darling looked to his feet
Linking lines like broken concrete
Running sole to shot gun
Demeanour weathered by rum
She stayed and cured him of boredom
I was on the other side of town burdened by the cross
She was Simon and I was Jesus
Jumping above the rim reaching a loss
Giving my word as the tides tossed
© Abiola
Related Stories
