Strands of madness, such as the sands of time.
Gut wretching sadness, just as a sour wine.
Years of tribulation, carve out their will on my brain.
And I race for the station, and bind my soul to a train.
All normalcies vacating, the shards of a brilliant mind.
I find myself placating, those who's fortunes rhyme.
Heed these words of truth, of the needle and it's toll.
Before you loose all reason through its tiny lil hole.
Understand, that trust won't roll.
You burnt those bridges, to light a bowl.
But now you hear, Grace's song,
That peaceful melody, from days long gone.
Now it's time, to say farewell.
Dodged your bullet, and a trip to hell.


© Poetic Wolf