Smokescreen Season
Firelight on the shape of loss and hurt and dread
Keeping with the shadow-talk until the coals are dead.
Sap the joy like syrup.
Tap the sapling tree.
Hoping there is substance to keep your motives clean.
Where are your promises now?
Actions you can’t disavow.
Hold the candle vigil for years that can’t be changed.
Making strong intention to relive all their pain.
Dredge the river waters to watch the bodies rise.
Set the funeral pyres for loves now long despised.
All of your excuses don’t afford a good reason.
Thus comes the collapse of this smokescreen season.
There's a line I know I can see it.
It once fed me lies, but I no longer eat them.
Sending me signs but I refuse to read them,
Bringing the collapse of this smokescreen season.
Where are your promises now?
