Lee Claiborne

Our love is a budding fruit,
Yet ripe in its core.

Unrelenting in its battles
...

Im standing on that road where god never travels,

Where prayers come to die,
& Where the soul unravels.
...

Such a radiant flower,
That bloomed from the red clay of Mississippi,

Adorned with petals of tender love, & roots as strong as whiskey
...

Some truths weigh a ton,
While some lies are easy to pull,

Some truths are colder than ice,
...

Time eats all beauty
& Belches out the bones,

& though wise hands reach to save it
...

If only I could rip off these pains of truth, & slip on something more soothing,

Let go of this frozen reality
& dive back into my illusions
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It is my hope, death is better than sleep & indeed ends all woes,

No more sweet dreams to dream, or hyms to sing, nor statutes to uphold.
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What if there was no temptation I didn't chase after,

What tragedies would strike me down, what treasures would I capture.
...

Despite the berating
they remain poised & lovely like heaven intended,

Drenched in the harshest rain
...

I now remember…

It wasn't a dream.
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