Jim Morrison

Jim Morrison was the Reptilian King,

Upon the highway an Indian’s spirit

Commandeered your fragile soul.

The Bohemian shrug, 

The Dark Room

We have all entered a dark room

Scared, fearless, and young

Of what monsters we’ll exhume. 

                                                      

How can I act normally insane?

When death has taken everyone

And everything that I'll never regain.

Lo, kept this pain within 

Neither God nor the River Jordan

Could wash away my sin. 

This dark room has no windows

To gaze out upon the refuge 

Of these silent innuendos. 

The coincidences of chance

And the universal of mistakes

That led to romance.

Those who offer condolences 

With their synthetic smiles

And parapet fences. 

The last pursuit

Of angling and dangling 

For irrevocable and irretrievable fruit. 

How many years

Upon this unforgiving earth 

Man wastes with useless tears?