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Thursday, 17 June 2010

Trading Places

What was it to be, in trading places..
Between a bullet and a target..
A rock and a hard place..
Placed on tracks, tied to rails..
On paths of run-away trains..

And who dare stands behind..
Pushing trains, adding to acceleration..
In velocity gained "It wasn't needed "..

A doomed, dammed man..
Cares not what colour the rope..
He is to be hanged with, looks like..
Putting things in situations, in context..
He rather be set free, sail free, be pardoned..
"As he forgive those who trespass against him"..

To air is human, that is just for breaths..
Anger in emotions are more intent..
With red mist; rage that follows..
And it's catch twentytwo..
With no ends of winning..
Doomed if he does, dammed if he doesn't..

A wounded beast is more of a danger..
It's best to keep one's distance..
Desperation, obliterates principals guide..

In characters played..
What if the dice thrown, did end..
On your number, trading places..
What if, what was it to be, what if..
Whats your number, in trading places...

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