Dance with the devil in the seat of my chair
A weekend that’s spent
in idleness can be good
every now and then.
But do it too often and
you’ll have catching up to do.
A weekend that’s spent
in idleness can be good
every now and then.
But do it too often and
you’ll have catching up to do.
If you cast me out,
I would live, if only to
rebel against you.
And if you tried to kill me,
I would grieve for you
but I wouldn’t show mercy.
And if, after that,
you treated me with kindness,
I’m not sure I would trust you.
If you called for me,
I’d take to the road for you
and walk through fire.
If you made a home for me,
I’d take up my sword
and strike down a god for you.
If you bored of me,
I would open up my chest
and then trouble you no more.
Anyone know how
to let someone down easy?
I sure as hell don’t.
Sometimes I’m entirely
too nice for my own damn good.
I wish that what I
truly desired could be
stuffed into a box
and gaily wrapped but, alas,
it isn’t that kind of gift.
The thundering roar,
howling through the sky, towards
the horizon’s end.
Is what’s inside of me the
voice, azure, or edge?
Which one is behind my eyes?
Or perhaps they’re all
a fragment of my spirit:
the being, journey, and goal.
It’s hard deciding
between what you want to do
and what you need to.
Especially when both are
things that you feel you should do.
I watched some movies,
stuffed myself with chocolate,
and stayed up too late.
After all of that, I am
dreading going back to work.
I fought with a friend
over a minor issue
for the umpteenth time.
While he acted like a jerk,
I was a little too harsh.
I’m dancing around
to avoid decisions that
I’m scared to confront.
So much could go wrong it’s hard
believing it might work out.