Morning ghosts come lightly veiled in willowy twilight
dancing shadows entertain as early mountain mist
whispering mind chants a melancholy mystery
sometime the wrong thing is just the right thing
this by his lonesome he heard them say

shards of glass sun on grey yard settle silent
memories rise up like forgotten roads of time
paths in the forest of less taken ventures
leaves in the wind remind us of choices
this by his lonesome he heard them say

fate’s journeyman to labor in new day creation
no minute left for memories best buried in last year
with and without you come seeking favor
but whose do you serve while whose will serve you
this by his lonesome he heard them say

with nature to nurture we reap what we sow
planted in tall grass overgrown and untended
last note in carved granite hand written with chisel
last call to lost masses to love one another
this by his lonesome he heard them say

voices that haunt us through choices and deeds
why this and not that these roads reappearing
one way winds forever while one comes to end
forget what is past it no longer can serve you
this by his lonesome he heard them say

dawn’s day is now here with trail you must travel
your destiny awaits you and will not be late
shake loose sorrow’s shackles binding and bleeding
true freedom is a road that runs through our mind
this by his lonesome he heard them say

goodbye to this tomb with no caretaker tending
twilight leaves lastly just memory and me
a voice calls me onward new light leads my way
forward to salvation but these memories will stay
this by his lonesome he heard them say

©2016 blindfish butler