Blue Ocean Gold Sky

From a world asunder,  You magnificent wonder,  Came from hell,  To create a sacred tell.  You are divine and powerful,  Your heart constantly harrow.  I revel in your presence,  Of a king made by benevolence.  The words you speak are true,  A task few often do. You take my love and glory,  A turn it into a legendary story.

Driving down a road with the windows down and the cool summer wind streaming in, The amber glow from the streetlights above fade in and out of focus, The hum of random radiomen tones out the sound of my off balanced tire spin. As I come to a stop I begin to hear the barn owls, bats, and locus. Stars far above look like little pinprick tears in the thick midnight black blanket, My journey home from a job I hate sends fumes of stress out of the end of my lit cigarette, And in a moment where I am alone with the cosmos and my thoughts, I think of it, It, life, my journey down a road as dim and alone as the one I travel tonight, will I have regret? Unable to comprehend such an important question, I close my eyes for a second and breathe in deep, The cold air fills my lungs as I slip my right hand off the wheel, unafraid of my car’s direction. A memory of this blissful night is mine and mine only to keep.

I'm feeling blue, there's not a single thing I want to do. I am numb, done. Not much I wish to see or feel, as long as it's far from here. Take me away, before I begin to decay. Let my memory be pleasant, in lieu of the place I went.

Heat haze, Beachy waves, Waterfall caves. Pineapple chicken, Aquamarine glisten, Seashell listen. Electric summer songs, Ocean motion calms, Paraiso en las palmas.

I’m tall and lanky, Shy but cranky, A people pleaser, Stair wheezer. I’m out of shape for summer, Definitely not a beach bummer. A pale person, Impossible to worsen. A lick of sun, And I’ll ignite into a raisin crumb.  

The unknown We are afraid of, In love, We are shown, That to be afraid, Is a chance, To find romance… That hope made.

I can't seem to find the right words to type. As I lay in my bed after a long night. Work is boring, I spend my hours touring, The same old store in my hometown, And cater to customers like a sad clown. There isn’t much to do but try to rest, After hours of doing my best. My room is cool and the night breeze rushes in, And I wait.  For the minute that I’m weak enough to let sleep win. I dream of things bittersweet, Of people and places, I’ll never meet. It’s a sad treat. After such a monotonous feat.