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Rated: E · Other · Emotional · #1675129
For a certain kind of lifestyle, you get highs and lows
So, you’ll sell
Younger getting older
You’ll sell when told
Sell more
Simple moments
Means nothing, just a soul
To be sold, and so he
Sold his soul long ago for a long draw on a Marlboro
Sold his soul
The boy pulls up some chairs
Cast around the room and Satan’s taken the hindmost
Are we out there having fun?
Clouds obscure the Sun’s rays, partially
They float and break into such pattern
Down below, the cool night has yet to come
A hot force delivering Summer rumbles on
Little nagging demons play across the frame
Painting the sinner darkly into place
Thieving little shards of white gold
Stopping to pretend, on this weary march
Apple and cherry blossoms both rediscover their colour
As the early morning whispers to anyone who cares
A simple prayer, strings weave through the air
Gentle cadences, acoustic rhymes
The Devil sitting still, ponders his Times
Still with its lies, wars, and rumoured lies
Some things don’t change, and he smiles
Under the growing glow of the new day
“Some things can never change”
From the hindmost, he nods, and we oblige
Smoke curling from his mouth, he turns
Contemplates the Devil, a little smile on his face
“Maybe not, but I’m not looking for a score
So, please, feel free: take what you came for”
Simple business, early morning, grey-blue with dew
“I don’t care about this World of mine anymore”
Satan’s smile widened, and he agreed
“No, boy, just wastewater, washing to the sea”
© Copyright 2010 W. James Morrison (jimedgewater at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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