Few miles from last known pavement
Stars, they tap the sky
Ask it where the day went
The sky asks why not why?
This city sleeps while he writes about night.
Silence breathes, takes in everything it needs.
It said more than any words ever could.
How long til we’re on the other side?
Worn trails from long-lost movement
Cacti poke the sky
Ask it where the groove went
The sky shouts still inside
This desert weeps while he writes about knights.
Evil, steamed. Finally getting what it needs.
Burning more than any fire ever would.
How long til we’re on the other side?
The sky creaks into places it’s been before,
Questions itself, what am I up here for?
Circling around
Looking for something or daylight to slow me down.
this is your life chuck johnson 