Dylanous

A Blues Song

As sages claim, to our demise
Desire must be swept from our eyes
For your petty needs, they worry not
Standing tall above what you have got
Death, they say, is led from all
We’ve ever known, as senses call
This Devil who, not unlike your own,
Has tortured and taken me from my home.

I fear it not for my vices or unshakeable grips
But that which I only ever see the tips
The dreams reserved for after I’m dead
And the toilets girls build inside my head
Alas, raised, I have been, with demon around
Speaking norms, conventions and other things compound
Comfort is the name of this bringer of light
Lending you coloured glasses and other tools to trick sight.

What is directionlessness or fear of all six
The way the sky becomes frozen when there’s nothing to fix?
For the first time in my life, I have nothing but room
But in each of my hands, I hold my own doom
Do keep watch where you believe to have choice
Or soon you may be crippled and left without voice
For the devils that history’s written as cruel
Will see you in the mirror, a fool