The Black Hats
We watched them at night
Those black hats spinning in the distance
When we dusted ourselves of expiration
-Lost in rouge appetite-
We retire that motion
The mentioned movement
Guided by illusions of allure
— The wailing suspect of truth
We do right by you
And wrong to think our life golden
The old hours push back
Sunrise to the brink of brain matter
Billowing the fire’s back now
Will is only hardened steel
If tempered under lock and key
Or ever ripened quill
I’ve lost the heart beat now
Pumping pages past experience
In an effort to be excellent
— We all wage war
On Rose and Thorn
But pesky stems stand the test
Of the root, otherworldly
Called into question
While standing trial for black magic
I’ve misheard words again
When I hear more verbs
Hit their mark,
You were Cupid without a bow
Breaking the arch
On my black hat
