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.