by Stefon Napier08 Aug 2013
Listening to the epic of my own heart.
An ebony throne sits among the throes of a waterfall.
The people that are around now are seldom the ones required for any sort of smile.
Days slip so easily past one another as the future I think about becomes scary.
Not because of what's unknown but because it can be taken away from me.
A canary alights on that throne as a whisper coming from the sun.
Standing still is faithless act.
If I'm running then there's no need to worry about the minutes ahead.