Hour Twenty-five

Bring me back to what I was
When the carelessness was bliss
Put those good old sparks of madness
Back into my tired eyes

Spit the devil in the face
Running down the road
Got my gods on a leash
And lightning in my hands

The clock will add hour twenty-five
When I'm going on a run
Cause time is not of essence
When I'm bowling with the sun

Shoot me out like a cannonball
Let me cover the crazy world
So that all will se that I'm back again
To touch the clouds and fly

Bring back my mark of madness
And joy to be alive
I'm soon the be the bastard
That sets his mark on time

I'm on a rant I know it
But the times are out of line
So the sun and I must divide
Who is what and who is fine

The clock will add hour twenty-five
When I'm going on a run
Cause time is not of essence
When I'm bowling with the sun





Poetry by Cr4Ky
Read 870 times
Written on 2009-03-27 at 11:18

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The title reminded me of one I wrote some years ago about a seperation that felt like 25 years but was only hours and when I read your poem I felt the pace and the rush of pure love of living, which is where you want to return to. Me too, if only that twenty fifth hours could last for an eternity. Loved your poem, Keep running and hold on tight to those hounds of freedom, they will get you there, smiling at you, Tai
2009-03-27


anoop.m.r
Nice
2009-03-27