Death or Glory

An old bearded oak of a man in the street yells,

“A storm is coming soon”.

The weather man says it will never rain again.

By their own perspective philosophies one of them’s just a body.

Reading teleprompts in two-piece suits,

One of them is too strange and splendid for any to comprehend.

I feel somethin’s coming for me.

Is this death or glory that hangs like lightning in the air?

It’s been years of barren skies,

But I see dark horizons draped like night beyond this glare

Out there at the edge of town,

Where the wind whips up, whispering my name.

I walk the streets of this withered and wicked land.

My shadow darkens the door of a place I ain’t been before,

But I shamble off in shame.

Throwing rocks at the rooks with these brittle and broken hands.

I feel somethin’s coming for me.

Is this death or glory that hangs like lightning in the air?

It’s been years of barren skies,

But I see dark horizons draped like night beyond this glare

I swear I feel the rain in my bones,

And I imagine thunder shattering stones, playing crack the sky.

I was scared I might be lost in the floor but now,

I see more than that I’m just longing for love and this land’s so dry.

In the dark of the night I woke with a start,

And I stared across the room,

But all I saw was this dream burned across my brain.

From here to the ocean there was a field of roses,

I watched them burst and bloom.

I saw them wither and fade but revive,

When they felt the rain start to fall.

I feel somethin’s coming for me.

Is this death or glory that hangs like lightning in the air?

It’s been years of barren skies,

But I see dark horizons draped like night beyond this glare.

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