Where this road is guiding
we will find out, no doubt.
Just follow
the lightning shining
on the swinging signage,
that hangs crooked
in the night.
Wheezing it's last gasps,
as the tears fall down.
The storm lights
allow a glance, outlined
in brief trance-like flashes.
Silhouette trees
grasping out
a feint greeting limb.
Stretching out.
Staggering close
to the fear of the
ink blot death drop
too near
to think about.
A premonition
of a long-forgotten dream.
A scream as the wheels spin.
The sound of dripping.
The seat belt yanking tightly
into my hanging skin.
Is this just fear
screaming in my head?
Or the nightly terrors
that I used to dread?
The downpour
takes hold, vision
blurred. A shiver runs cold.
You insist that this is
the right direction,
but the say nav is blown.
Church steeple in the distance.
seared to my eyelids.
Do I begin to pray?
Hypocritical if I asked to be saved.
When I've always stayed away
from churches
and their man made
religion falsies.
Your voice rides on lies.
but I'm sold. It's so cold
and I listen to every story told.
Hanging by a rope
onto your words.
You speak. The words I heard.
We would be okay.
This was untrue.
But the end of our story
wouldn't be that one stormy day.
Thanks for reading
Please take a few moments
to check out my new book "Poetic Outlaw"
available from Amazon
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CVQ5F9K8/
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