Eamon

We live or die in here, the first one offers wine, others circle near, bereft of drama or lonely stars, our debts are high, the journey is never far, a moon bright trees sere, each place lit with inner light, no one hides their fear, whoever makes their mark, another wonders why, clips a happy start, lemon tart as tears, chills a sparkly birth right, see the rise and demise, of easy danger near, before any whispered sigh, this prison on the weir, gives you the right, forgives previous tears, on walls is written life, cool,considered, clear.