Poetry Blog by The Black Bile (Highway)

What am I doing? Blurry lights glow before my eyes. Who am I? Should I check? Where am I? 11:11, the clock reads. Always 11:11. Oh, yes…… I am no one, at least for the night. Red, white and blue eyes reflect black at my soul. Time to roll, for the dead travel fast. All’s in black for the backwoods. Anticipation steals my heart in storms. Chaos is on the bound. Fortunate Son plays along to my midni...

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Privacy’s Temporary. 
It’s Only A Matter Of Time
‘Till The Darkness Shines,
And Now In Here 
It Goes Away Again.
If All Is Well
That Ends Well
Then All Is Not Well.
It’s A Pirates' Life For Me
When Riddled 
One More Than Three.
Unto This,
Death Looks So Unnatural. 
 

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