October

Expectant of the obvious; I turned to me, sizing up the mirror With the borders painted white and the rain fell slow, practiced in the art of loneliness Pilot of my own shortcomings, and leading me to dry land And now remaining is a framing of a former existence Mostly hollowed of holiness, and pressing against a few painful days The rain stopped around 2 a.m. and so I went out for a walk Bayed at the moon when the water floods my eyes Then the dawn broke as the receiver came to life The voice so reassuring as I'm clutching for reprise Leaves of fragile might coat the ground in red and shimmering chrysolite The sidewalk crumbles and the high-rise scowls down as I walk in shameful strides Solidarity, and the broken promises I thought I'd see through to the end And turning to me now; October, bathed in golden light Repeating a phrase of optimistic disposition "It'll all work out in the long run"