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By Kevin Alan Lamb

By Kevin Alan Lamb

Some live above and below the rainbow
Amongst heavens and heathens
Each for their own reasons
Our coordinates do not label our souls
Placement in this life is so often like the wind blows
Left to chance
Like a hand you may or may not know the pleasure of in dance
Those with true faith in this world need not prayer but romance
To blindly believe in something is pure
But when such purity can be met in the eyes of another, it becomes a cure
An arrival at peace and contention from a journey you’d rather not mention
Declining belief, dissolving hope, yet some so quickly turn their heads from a life ended by a length of rope
Despite our distinctions, we are of the same existence
Why judge another man’s ending, is it really so mind bending?
Have you not had such thoughts?
There is a fine line between thought and action
A line clearly defined
Yet on both sides a tip toed dance
Who will allow themselves to be saved by romance?
Who will succumb to the wicked ways of despair?
Our fate is not in the air, but it exists in the wind
Like riding the crescent of an ocean waive
Out of breath, clinging to at least one more inhale to the chest
Hanging by a moment
Maybe hanging here for you
Either way, sunk or saved, under a sky blue
It will not fade
So few little things to phase
We walk, we talk, we hope, we pray
To see, to meet, to believe, for a chance to leave
With the ones we love
With someone we love
With anyone at all.

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