Tombstones For Eyes

Mark the man who is willing to explore a way of escape
Through an opened door wide opened to making a big mistake
In shadows that filter through an ornament of demise
A word to the wise in frolic strength
What a mistake we tend to make,
In ardent flowers with decorated emblems of jest
What will it take to enter into its eternal rest
Strength comes from within the given need by which to comprehend
The hand with its paper in touch with the ingredients of such
A must needed poet within by which to challenge one again
In solace a papal friend to love & share
The way you can care in humble approval through its opened door
A willingness by which to humbly explore so much more
In times of solace hence the opened door
We tend to wallow in the dark to fright with shadows in fright
To light the ambiance and its fallen decadence
A given sense of romance
Yet to quit then to do what?

We paint pictures with flashing lights of sound in the distance of children
The flowers are already gone
The farm was over grown then torn in desolation
A pilgrim tread through its dire dread
We become mute & then
A sound of a tree filled with fragrance & honey bees,
To trust a moment caught in time
A fragrance to bloom at the drop of a dime
In time we send shadows through the light on each door bell
A shadow may inflate one's inner ego;
In waiting it may promote the inner violation of the innocent
Then again disappear in the wind?
By Mario William