
Fire or water
One in the same
From the scars on the mountain
To the warmth of the flame
A treacherous trickster
A lie on every breath
Using light
To hide in shadows
The nature of her game
She knows no shame
And keeps the prices high
Of every part of soul
She steals
An act quickly denied
Angelic vampire
Sucking life out of the real
Infatuated
Over rated
But Oh
She does have such appeal
Make a wish star gazer
The air is clear tonight
An eye to glass
Perception focused
On the glints
That fill the night
A sky full of mystery
The great unknown beyond
That’s where the mind
Is reaching
That’s where the thoughts
Abscond
Counting the rounds
From her ivory tower
Watching the silhouettes
Scurry below
A well oiled bolt
Slides back from the chamber
With a ten mile smile
And a nose full of blow
Brass necking
Brass Cases
Ding on the floor
Breathe
Hold
Squeeze
All that abhors
Hatred
On the hair pin
Lawyers
In the ranks
The brass
In the pocket
Pumping rounds
In to the banks
Old ghosts are in the shadows
Blades drawn under cloaks
With merchants of suicide
And media smoke
The silhouettes fall
Each round counting down
And the survivors are left
To polish her crown
The most of everything is nothing. Charges and cores spin in the void to make all that matters. The rest has neither light, nor sound nor meaning. Yet this big empty makes up the majority of all we will ever know. It is omnipresent and the canvas upon which all that exists is painted.