Full Moon Chronicle II

Full Moon Chronicle II

Here in this green four-seater amongst us,

Fourteen and sixteen and eighteen betwixt you,

All friends good and true

Lost in the bloom of your years -

Let me say here,

I took stock of you each

And was rather selective,

Of close relations protective,

By design or inclination,

Bid limited invitation to my inner sanctum

And all at one time or another road shotgun.

Letting you into my world,

Perhaps theres something to be said

For that widows peak on my forehead -

And how I came to consider myself cursed

As you each died road deaths in turn,

Yet I still have a ravenous yearning

To drive -

Perhaps Im purging the guilt inside

On some subconscious level

To make us all equal,

Driving for those who cannot

To feel normal

Still,

Shall we let the engine cool for a while?

I still have many a mile to drive, but

Ill catch you all up on details of a life

I tried so hard to rectify,

In your memory

I'd say the engines still running,

And the wheels are still turning,

And two-ninety five a gallons still burning,

But I feel the age denied you

Creeping,

Up on me in a rolling stop

No sleeping,

At the same time the time-cops are hot on my tail -

And I try very hard to not leave a trail,

But Im running out of gas and Im running out of oil

And Im starting to feel the dead weight of years toil

And the Reaper, like some two-cent pig behind a blind

With a radar-gun clocking me over the line -

Ah,

But what am I saying?

Youre just ghosts in my head,

That full-moon again must be driving me mad -

But if theres a chance you exist on this side,

You all just sit tight and enjoy the ride.

~Darkling Plain, Sept. 6, 2006