Thursday, June 20, 2024

The Good

A good song has elements of existing
Withing a finite determinism
Caught in near possession
But never total acquiesce
It is a boat with a depleting river
A good song must remain a remote
Franchise of solitary confession
That mirrors the star dust of expectations
And ramifications of blatant disregard
For tempo abstractions and tonal distress
My loved friend Brandon heard the song
Of the universe’s ocean so clearly
That left us early, too soon, and tragically
Woke me from digression into dismissal of self
Brandon, you are still loved these years later
Do not worry, you will never be forgotten
As long as I am alive, alive in song
In circumstance, and star dust of regeneration