when death’s cold hand takes me down and flesh and bone lay underground will my soul just cease to be with all its precious memory   or will it fly on golden wing to places where bright angels sing or lost ones moan and demons weep and wail in vain in fiery deep   does it find another life in newer worlds of joy and strife or...

crazy is a perspective and I've held it for most of my lifeabandoned at three my sharp little mind saw and remembers the precursorspeople always have a tell when their about to break your heartthe night the cops came...