Like the golden glow of the setting sun
Does this time represent the fall of man...

Sitting at the final table playing the hand of my...
Judgment day the same as I have lived...

A saint I will never be
Too long in the black of night...

It is centuries old
The lamest holiday...

Warm summer rain gently falling upon us
Cleansing our souls with its gentle touch...

The nights passion is driven
Pushed to the brink with each touch...

Cold steel, sharp and ready
Held hidden at your side...

There is a darkness on the edge of my soul
From being burnt one too many times...

Practice what you preach
Do what you say...

What say you?
I ask...not knowing why...

If the sun refused to shine
Rivers no longer flow to the sea...

Poems have no meaning
Words and sentences all...