Document - Glipse of faith
En gammal text som jag dammat av, dels av nostalgiska skäl, men också på grund av Whoas generösa lagringsutrymme som tillåter mig spara denna i en tryggare databas. Hoppas på mycket kritik!A marked old man walks in to a streetcorner bar/his black eyes tells us he´s traveled really far/single malt on the rocks is directed as an order/his entrence made everyones eyes act like recorders/he encounters a chair next to the frostycold window/the pooring rain reminds him of the visiting rainbow/every zip from his drink seem to change his expression/sat down at his table filled with som kind of effection/hey stranger, what are you doing here so late?/he answered, by telling me he´d been brought in by fate/the scar on his left eye told a story on it´s own/his eyes never met mine, but I could tell he was alone/the vision mirrors secrets of the soul, i´ve been told/curiosity made me wan´t to know, why he´d become so cold/he ignored me for a minute or two and then he said/"you should be outside living your life, instead,/of talking to a poor old man who´s haunted by death"/The intencety from his answers almost stole my breath/It questioned my questions as if I was speaking to my self/I soon realized, it wasen´t him, but me, who needed help/
The evening was followed by an ever so living night/this wasen´t right, like as if it had awoken the moonlight/His heavy arm lifted up the third drink he´d been served/the jukebox played a motownsong that I never played or heard/I asked him about the marks that painted his face/it had become a map of history to orientate him trough days/He looked at me and said he´d once came to close to vanity/the change of personality, was something i´d identify as insanity/but he tied up the strings and mastered the closeure to/every subject he touched, left me without a damn clue/coulden´t really tell what he wanted to let me know/he´s stories were glimpses from a lifeshow witch I own/I was scared, started to svet, this coulden´t be real/he knew exactly what i´ve done, and all the things i fear/I swear, all my secrets that are locked in my heavy breast/the barwalls heard confessions that once were put to rest/ he also seemed to know what went on inside, and how I felt/this was the first and the last time, i ever met myself/