Thursday, 16 October 2014

The Highway and The Hearse

The highwayman had a past,
To confide in he had always sought.
Everything seemed to threaten his highway oft,
And for his highway ,this world he had fought.

Alas the fights leave the dead in smears,
And the death black hearse were his wheels.
Gathering the honest , shunning the dishonest,
The hearse is dark, but in good earnest.

Alas came in one passenger,
Whose soul he thought to be no stranger.
To his wandering highway heart, he finally had shelter,
The reins of his hearse grew looser , not tighter.

How strange is this stranger ,
To have left him in this manger.
But the hearse now welcomes him ,
The highway is the only one that can shelter him.

/* So this one draws from audioslave's I am the highway and Porcupine tree's I drive the hearse. It's about a solitary wanderer realizing that wandering is ultimately what he has to do . It is the only thing real for him. Everything else and everyone else comes and goes like various passengers on the hearse and only the highway remains. The highway is the wanderer's ultimate muse */