Soaked by the morning sun

The dark haze of ice

Sat at the watchtower

Not moving my eyes

 

A maze of days gone by

Not able to place time

Sunk in yesterday’s love

People talking in rhyme

 

The shadows making portraits

Like an artist’s stoke

Lost hues striking hard

Believe me it’s no joke

 

Like an eye of the pirate

Many times, many ways

Delirium working full time

The hidden side of my phase

 

‘Wher’ to go first?

Planning my first move

A need to set myself free

Get into the right groove

 

Sat at the watchtower

Thinking about life

As I lay my head down

Comes along in the time of strife.