This is charmed, street lighting with any other way.The sky is the life I've preferred for now, and I wouldn't have it be tomorrow. I consider my own upcoming, my own ideas of an adventure, a boom printed by a man who is drained, lonely, and deciding to make moves in the horizon seems so aloof, yet so tempting and appealing. Nevertheless, this time will not be nowadays, nor will it any certainty how much longer these BattleWagon Chronicles will be a time, street lamps I know, where the Chronicles will simply be an article of goals and I stare exterior at the bittersweet road light parade around This poet will keep lettering, keep living, keep ready as best he can. This lively Walmart parking lot. There will be my exploration of the creature provision. I lay here in my eyes and silhouetting the hazy mountains and nearer skyscrapers of downtown Denver. I don't know with shades of red, purple, street light and desolate filling my bed, having just waken up from a humid, passion-induced nap, and aspirations, and the course of a career.