I took a hundred steps that morning
and took a hundred handshakes to the sunrise of the mind,
seven dwarfs to follow much like seven deadly sins to sink the thoughts
and cigarettes on dew and lighters in the cold,
her fingers running down the spine and coffee in a jar just before the wine,
fighting wars, loving deadly, living for today, building up tomorrow
all we did was gone and borrowed…

Places that I’ve seen by the open window of the trains I’ve ridden
pierced the shape of things to come,
and much alike a Scottish dream the lover’s chained to burn
and we drink their blood
and we feast upon the innocence that never fades,
deep into our lake that shines a billion lights
we never broke a promise as of yet…

And I’ve no regrets, nor hate or feelings of disdain,
the chapter’s filled with clouds and ash and dreams
and battles with white whales and even shattered glass,
and cold mornings still remind me of a cottage lost in foggy hills
where maps were drawn with borders black and bold only to be crossed,
and knights and magic do remain
where each of us is young and lives forever…