There’s a Thursday in the future…
Hard rain is going to fall.
There is going to be a reckoning.
The wager will be tall.
It will be an all or nothing.
With no space for turning back.
The eyes will hold that look of fear.
Like a prisoner on the rack.
But for now it’s wine and roses.
Loaded guns behind locked doors.
In the distance there’s a silence.
In my head a battle roars.