The tragic life of a dreamer.
Faust would be proud.
Today the glimmering solemn midnight jolted with eloquent veracity.
The poet saw.
The poet too wrote.
"Oh myriad skies,
a shallow grave you dig for me.
Atop a tombstone with etched goodbyes.
A half dug grave unseen by man.
A wooden coffin.
Rather just a tree.
A time trapped prison.
A master plan.
A perfect future only god can see"
The devil deals in rotten fate.
Expired promises, important dates.
The time of day, one can say is under the spell of our own hell.
The tree of life provides shade.
Life only has one escape.
Escape can be tricky.
Make a plan, or serve your sentence.
Procrastination is now a virtue.
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