Tarantula Gardens

Drowning, I think
Falling, into the drink
Swallowing, liquor,  pills . . . pride
Can't keep asking why
Swirls of ideas, that have seen better days, old ways
fading back in, 
someone's calling again . . .

I gasp for air, as I choke for more
crystal clear, come on, open your door
see me inside, walk on thru
eyes so white, skin pale blue
Tell me, what do you want me to do ?
                                                    And with all promises made
                                                    burning words untrue
Chambers to nowhere
                                                    an endless abyss
dancing shadows
                                                    a terrible bliss - thru all of this

I learned to tumble,
 - between the fears
    in the rears -
I will rumble . . .  when feeling attacked
                              the solitude of logic, well defended
                              though driven back to the front
- hearts are cruel 
  what a fool -
a drunken stunt ?

Walk away . . .  sun up and beyond
                           black water pond
                           white faces - few traces of anything fond

and oh well for hell
gates are seared shut, coming back with a 'what?'

Plenty of cancer, tucked in that hideous answer

Chemical love, an odd pleasure
                            for this kind of weather
                            in a mind wrapped in black leather
Deeper
the window is wider
Hard Wood - all the way inside her

Daydream Empire,
mine has fallen . . .  into ruins never recalling

Angel statues, watching over Tarantula Gardens

Black Blues, government pardons

Anarchy failing everyone
 - pulling me further into a bottle of rum

Lost in the winds, blind, where it all begins

the talismans, trinkets and fool's gold . . .
                          worthless dust, like trust . . . 
                                                                            in the days of old