Description: Just fucking waiting to go to Illinois
the tireless wait of things yet to commence -------------------------------------------
Lord what am i waiting for?
when everything falls away,
dealing with my decisions
as another season quickly frays
and it seems so far, but nonetheless
lost in the frame of now and then
sit alone and talk to myself,
trying to assure the lost half
and guide him to the light
through this tunnel of darkness
" you'll get there in due time"
I'm sick of hearing that line
" gimme danger little stranger"*
I have to feel the rush of it
and feel the blade a little closer
as i run my tongue across it
the sweetness of the pain
lost in the darkness once again
these hands ache, my pulse ragged
feels like a cage, with all the openings
but everything standing in the way
for lack of better words
it's always been this way
for it's the time to get going
Lord half the problem is knowing
my hair grows longer, the glares sharper
and although my gut remains small
the angst and fury within grow larger still
waiting for the day where it all subsides
and i can get off the train in peace
and walk away with the slightest of ease
commence to burn my insides
trying to find a solution to problems
but i'll sit here and silence
let my axe do all the talking
loveing every thing except the axe. so not my weapon of choice. but ohter than that it gave me chills. wicked good write...what's in illinoise? if i may ask.
"" gimme danger little stranger"*
I have to feel the rush of it
and feel the blade a little closer
as i run my tongue across it
the sweetness of the pain
lost in the darkness once again"
Ooooooo I feel drunk with this little rant. It's descriptive in the ways that somone choaks you and you need to look in their eyes before you die.
It slashes you down right to a human way of thinking, a lost mind just sitting and waiting. I can see this not being spoken but crafted on nothing but pure thoughts.
Submission Name: the tireless wait of things yet to commence
