I wanna go back to the mountain
back to the delicate flowers that
he once kissed
back to eden , to the beginning
when dawn unfolded
before the substance gained
control
With the cool air
comes a storm
the bonfire crackles and spits
as a star burns up in the sky
A train has stopped
it flickers on the horizon
There are too many monuments
for broken hearts
The games some of us play
can become cruel at the
end
where the last track
fades into crimson tide
silent ripples
against the darkness
And the woods are full
of illumination
but all is quiet now
in this moment
in this tragic
tear
music will echoe
memory will not fade
Nos da cariad
Sleep well
brawd
( Richard was one of my closest friends
who passed away yesterday
in what appears to be
a suspected
overdose. )
No comments:
Post a Comment