Written: 2001

It's the writing in your mind that forms the history of your soul
As you wander on your journey towards a destiny supposed
The naked body shows should only a part of it appear
And when the eyes decide the way, the path ahead may conjure fears.

and although the mouth may spill, tomorrow never cries
it has no shape, it has no form, it has no alibis.

I see a form...a man...a god...he takes me to his soul
Convicting me of truth in thoughts, detouring future pain
Convicting me of truth in thoughts to expedite my goal
Convicting me of truth in thoughts, not loss but all to gain

and although the mouth may spill, tomorrow never cries
it has no shape, it has no form, it has no alibis.

The grave is there, for all must die & move towards the morrow
What lies ahead could be a bliss could be a lake of sorrow
No proof to show, could be a gate of angelic attorney
To ward you off or lead you on to yet another journey

and although the mouth may spill, tomorrow never cries
it has no shape, it has no form, it has no alibis.


Copyright 2005, All Rights Reserved

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...