Its late, I'm tired and about to conk off.
Something stirs inside and I'm hoping that writing about it will calm it.
But alas, even as these words flow, the stirring continues.
Waning silence has been met with the refuge of cold hard logic.
And as smaller but yet more important countdowns click to the beat of the impending drum,
a small but persistent voice asks who bloody cares?
As men fight for relevance and honor, and worlds shift on axis, my banner is lowered from my comfort zone.
Pats on the back and 3 cheers all around fill the growing void, for moments of a moment the colours return... and strangely too.
Heart red streaked and flashed with gray. Vege green with glimmers of gunmetal steel.
No poetry tonight... this is imagery overload... this is too much black beret... this is errrrrggggg
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