Sage

Some have said you will be better off than half-dead

When you are all the way gone

Ugliness, all the more obvious

In the dramatic, high-profile ones

But if it's not just you

People try to hold on too tightly to

Or to push away...

Well if you play guitar like me into the wind

You might not always know where to begin

But you will also know something to calm your nerves

Oh that it doesn't really matter

Far far away life will begin

And the might of night will scatter

Everyone you know falls into the fray

You'd see your teachers fight against the dark and shatter

The damp, heavy disappointment of the wasted day

You write an idea

That is simple

In 1000 words

And then

Put it out

Into the pasture

For its retire-

Ment

The heavy lamp of disappointment

Cranes its arm to shadow over the stage

Cranes to brighten the shadow

Of the doubt of the sage

The doubt remains but the distortion

Washes it out in a fuzz of clay

The doubtful sage returns to his pattern

Of taking his life for granted in full

Expectation of being set free someday

But when sorrow comes to fall

He will not resist the pull

The saviour watches from the window

He/she will resist the pull

From the window is watching

From the window of a distant house somewhere

Maybe far away

The night is beautiful and rustic and grey

The rain is rustic, the fields and pastures

Are a deep dark grey