Mid-summer nights of boiling blood

And oil; spread over acres of

Memories and flashbacks.

Scattered shades idolize the waters

Which feed the Rudd and Roach.

Day dreaming skies of grey

Agonize many regrets.

As every leaf falls onto pond

And to bank – I live again.

I loop my life in two;

Jumpstarting the clean-dark cabinets.

It ponders the mist and slips.

I wonder how the colourless blood

Trench beneath my stand.

Aching veins and boiling blood

Pump my mind sour.

And in each hour of torment

I accept it, and walk away.