Death

Is death another journey, Just another ride, Are you my burning passion, Burning deep inside? Are the winding roads of destiny, Illusions in the night, Butterflies just dancing, In hazardous drunken flight? Are the very words I find, Digging in my pit, Empty of real meaning, As I dig for more of it? Is death another journey, Just another ride, With the circle be unbroken, Till I find your face inside? Bubbles that are bursting, Life that's floating by, Speck of dust still dancing, In the iris of your eye. The up and down of feelings, The left and rightful way, The good the bad the ugly, That keep our deaths at bay. But when the play is over, The story still untold, I receive the bill for nothing, Because nothing has been sold. Is death another journey, Just another ride, Till your boat come riding homewards, On the rising morning's tide. more at http://labyrinthoflies.com