By Mark A. Leon

The difference between a hell hole and shit hole is just a point of view
Every town tainted with broken dreams
Lonely roads keep my company
Every day closer to her face
These pockets empty except for the dust and the faded memories of the last fruitless road

A pill for the pain
A pill to just keep me sane

Love burns to the core
Raw and gutted

Under this blood red sky, I pray

All that is left is a picture from another day
Another time when you found comfort in my arms

Now this life is breaking me
Every day, I ask for another chance, but time plays a wicked guitar
Riffs so harsh, days so long
Like a soul singer alone on stage, I suffer for the art of survival

Here I am, half a world away and no direction on this pointless compass
The sun directly above
No tilt to the left, nor to the right
Still and burning for another victim

I think back to those that had faith in me
Those that believed
Shared a vision of something; a powerful meaning in these words
No genie
No magic lantern
No turning back
A blank page remains in this journal, but has the ink run dry?

On the side of this road I will rest this head
Flooded in thoughts
Too tired to think
With the taste of clay, I look to the mountains in the distance
Eyes heavy; darkness lurking

Tomorrow, oh tomorrow
Another day to continue