The Promise

By Bruce Clifford

I've been facing the storm and panic bell
Like the gold rush of fate you live to tell
Holding on to extremes and collisions
Getting bye on hope and revisions

Closer to the sea I find my space
Caught up in the chaos of this human race
The battle of the rich reflect on the poor
Feel the winds of change crashing through your padlocked door

I've been dressing the wound time and time again
Airing it all out with only dreams left to defend
The quiet morning rocks to the violence in the trees
The energy erupts and eats away at the disease

Closer to the sea I find my face
Living in a dream of time and space
Written in the sand with the hands of time
The promises we bare are forming a line

© 8/30/08 Bruce Clifford