The littered carcasses of aluminum cans
And nubile breasts
Padlocked behind wanton's door
So inviting to just come in
To drink of the fountain
Of poisoned lips and letters
Weary and wandering
Upon lost alleys
And cold wet cement
The truth lies dormant on the tiles
Of wet delusions and forgotten promises.
Snatch them before they are gone
Their merry way
A deluded trellis
How to reach a fools heart
Of whispered promises
And rough calluses
Lighting their irises
In frivolity and splendor
This time the clock struck one
Rescued by the blink of the sirens.
Next fate might not shine the fair morn card
All is not lost
That which remains shall stand pure.
The embers of the fire will not snuff.
Or the bellowing waves overcome
Never shall she never give up
On the wings of a skirmished prayer
Smolten, lost, quivering, weary
But taken not by the storm
Perchance the lullaby rings on...