On the Road to Perdition

In my human condition I see angels audition
Called out for fishin on the road to perdition

Night riders taken by the highway bishop
In creed and confession, pawns forced into kissin
Tired of the wind’s repetition, standing one with the law
Envy behind all creation, even love is commissioned
Wearing strong foundation, death is a blessing
But I still don’t believe it’s you that I’m missin
And there ain’t nothing I’m wishin for

I see angels audition from my various positions
I find myself sleeping and keep myself guessing
Should have sought your permission before I fell off the floor
Was I born to be fishin on the road to perdition?
Should have been a pair of ragged claws

On the Road to Perdition

hudson

Kingston Heights, New Zealand

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poem poetry

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