Dante Rose

My mind exorcised, yearnings bolt and die
Etchings stricken from our satin page
Injustice pales my voice, truth drowned by lies
Retreating now from the war I cannot wage
...

I’m losing sight of your bloodshot eyes,
Through the sheets of rain
Midnight chimes ring through the air,
As I let go of your hand again
...

When I’m alone on a scatter-book night
Cold and old, with a tombstone face
I sing along to the railroad breeze and I think of April’s chase
Left at home while the songbird flys
...

For me the moon doesn't shine on the Earth, but shines on you and I
Rain doesn't fall but to remind me of the tears I've made you cry
The sun doesn't rise at dawn, but rises when you wake
And the stars can glow again after every obstacle we break
...

Her voice as soft as summer’s haze
With a melting lost-brown, oak-wood gaze
Smatters of emerald illuminate her eyes
Clouded breaths in the sharp night air
...

Raindrops roll like ruthless streams burning with regret
As the highland warrior gazes out into his cigarette
Above the ground of forefathers longing to halt the weary flow
A voice cries out with a scorching tongue from the gravel down below
...

An incandescent spirit and a tongue as sharp as winter’s scent
A lurid, lingering grudge will freeze long after the hell it awoke
Hiding behind her musical smile, a mind unable to repent
For ferocity this vain tastes like a dagger in the throat
...

With flashes of fizzing poison, filling up your cheeks
And distant memories of men that you’ve ignored for weeks
With the buzzards circling, sharpening their beaks
You’re still the world’s biggest victim
...

She was born in the city, her clothes were on fire when they met
He came down from the country, a farm-boy who made too many bets
Raised up neath’ the wind, she had to take what she could get
In a stolen Ford Pickup, with the scent of a thousand cigarettes
...