They say that home, is where the heart is, and it seems as though I am just looking for another chance to be allowed to breathe free again, and make me feel young again too. As I stand here w atching and waiting for the rain to come from that storm out on the streets, which I have never run from. And I know that my words said will never keep anyone dry, or be able to wipe tears as they flow freely from an open sky. As the clouds go black and the sound of the thunder can be heard rolling overhead, with lightning being seen striking. I will keep on fighting even though it seems like the rain is following me wherever I go.

I know that there is no way back from most of the things I have done, just like it is too late to stop the setting sun. With there being times that shadows are seen in the distant light, like a strange arrival a thousand miles away. I might know that I am right about most things never going to be alright, and this is my life and for living it I will pay one day. Still I try and fight to protect some when the dark black shadows descend, and attempt to turn them into grey, when the water tries to pull them down into either those waterfalls of pity or those whirlpools of lies.

And a lot of time it seems that I am moving after midnight, and making my way down boulevards full of broken cars. And out beyond here lies nothing but the mountains of the past spread out under both the moon and the stars, and feeling like nothing has been done and nothing has ever been said, along with nothing that can be called my own.

Avoiding those obstacles placed in my way by taking dancing lessons on that jitterbug ride that seems to be standing near. And passing down the streets as I see myself reflected in those windows made of glass, thinking of when my life took a turn and felt at times almost demure, as well as safe and strong. Seeing myself in the reflections I pass through my tired eyes with my feet sometimes feeling like a prayer, and feeling like I am carrying a woman in my hair as long as love will last. But, then again time changes and sometimes love fades as Dylan once said. She seems like she is the only one I have ever known and we both fight to keep the dark shadows away not allowing the madness to take its toll when time turns fleeting, and the fight becomes for control.

Beyond the horizon and behind the sun there are places where life has barely begun, in those long hours of twilight and its turning. And there some places there where memories can be found to be drowning, in either pain, or bliss. And out beyond the horizon and out there across the divide in the midnight hours we find that we are usually on the same side, and in that darkness somewhere someone has prayed for your soul, with my repentance being some sort of pain. Both of us feeling the night winds blowing, and at times they make me feel like I have blood in my eyes for her.

I will do my best to tell you the facts and try not to look back, and attempt to do as Dylan said about telling us where everything is truly at. I have been meek at times and also have been as hard as an oak, and sat here or stood in the doorway watching all the pretty people appear and disappear like smoke, and you know where I will be. Friends will also have a habit of arriving and leaving and those aren’t real friends but mere acquaintances who stand there grinning, as you lie bleeding on the ground and having a lot of nerve to be telling you they are your true friends.

People have gotten crazy and times have changed, with some things being too hot to touch, and the human mind only handling so much. With there being times like we have both walked down forty miles of bad road, and been told that you can’t win with a losing hand. Something I have been doing for so long it seems most times all I do is bluff instead of folding, which most would do. And I get hurt sometimes easily but, I never let on or show it.

Copyright Timberwolf International LTD: November 2015 – 20