Wednesday, February 10, 2010

The Tide

A little scar under my fingernail
Tiny, but large enough to be read by the careful eye
the smallest mark of the damage you have become
A sign still undone of this mess we were in

And as the hawk was landing
My Noah's ark is finally at peace
with such dope release
and never
before seen footage
of the confidence all over the place

So the lab tells, my blood analysis' back
Saying high on low self esteem
or is it misreading "high on clouds above"?
How could I know
while watching birds dancing along, and me here

A soft pain underneath my fingernail
some cut keeps bothering me still
but it should be left beneath my trail
of dry leaves put aside
if you look at the letter it's easy to figure for real
between mirrors
a B morphs into an 8
and the result is the same, as my faith
never denied me a ride

Whilst the hawk lands on messy ark
I glide with friendly doves
over the tide