A Question

what happens now? what happens then?
when the truth sets in
and desperation grabs hold
and it grips you and grabs you
and won’t let you go
what do you do?
as down goes the day
and night comes your way
and morning is still a thousand years away
and you’re praying and pleading
for the sun to come up
cause you’re at your most susceptible
when the dark catches up
but the sun just lowered
and like the wind is gone
the night’s become chilled
like winter’s bone
the moon fills the sky
and awakens the stars
and with a swipe of the knife
the blood’s now ours
what now?
with weary thoughts from winter’s haze
and a weary mind
remembering memorable days
a weary body from weary ways
and weary eyes from a forgotten gaze
a weary tune from a flat-tuned guitar
what to do now?
when you haven’t travelled long
but have gone too far
you can look behind you
but there’s nothing to see
the sky’s no longer golden
once the dark’s been set free
and in that moment, that time
when it’s harder to find
a fact, a seam, a reason or rhyme
when you lose your breath
and it’s too cold to catch it
and life throws you a bone
yet you’re too lazy to fetch it
when everything’s right there
but you’re too tired to care
and you can no longer feel
because your soul’s gone bare
when your head goes numb
and your mind goes stiff
when your feet grow old
and can’t balance the cliff
and your path goes dark
and your trail grows cold
and you can’t find the words
that need to be told
and you can’t find the jack,
the knack or the king
and your heart’s getting clubbed
by the one-eyed queen
if you’ve folded your pair
and lost your full house
will you go double or nothing, push all in?
or take the few chips you have left
and go cash in?
what will you do?
with the future fast approaching
and approaching fast
and everything that was to come
has now come to pass
when your world is flipped
and turned outside in
and you can’t seem to start
or finish the begin
and you don’t know what to mop –
the floor or the ceiling
and your grip is slipping
cause your fingers have lost their feeling
and the ceiling is dripping
as your hands go numb
and you don’t know whether
you’re coming to or going from
on this avenue you’re taking
on this road you’re running
on these bridges you’re burning
and you need some sort of guidance,
some sense of direction,
but all the road signs have been stolen
at this intersection
what’s next?
when it’s not what’s seen
and it’s not what’s heard
and it’s not what’s clear
and it’s not what’s blurred
when you look and look
but can’t seem to find
a whit of trace to follow
or symptom of lapsed time
and the moon’s too empty
and your thoughts too hollow
and you can’t crawl to stand
or jump your feet to follow
and as clocks start to stand still
and minutes slow to years
you can feel the stom rising up
and see the clouds swell with tears
and as nature begins to make its music
you cover your ears
you try to out tune it
your mind fights and fights
trying to ignore it
but your soul takes over
and starts to absorb it
and the melody
shakes you where you stand