Stories

The stories are told in such a fine grit

the echoes of eternity were infinitely lit, 

at certain paths there is a crossroad

you look for a crown to which I will righteously bestow.

 

The clutches of tomorrow were never in dismay

you write your riches to which no one ever flinches, 

please say to sorry that I was never there

let us hope that there will be a share.

 

Go on, go on, go on, go far far on

snaring away at the pumps of your heart, 

is all you will ever need to start.

 

Please don’t go, don’t give me a precise no

every sound of the air way can give a chance to go,

too little, too far on our journey to an intergalactic bar

a million men marched up Jupiter’s spiral low.

 

Take it, take it, take all the eternity of time

making up a conscience will give us a world to deny

from start to finish there will be no minds left to vanish.

 

The once and for all have grown too far gone

many can rid us from this infinite church,

I stand here in the middle as a road’s pawn

The earth will open up for us to emerge.