Surety

She says she's not so sure,
And I think I relate.
With Memphis gathering below,
In lane after lane
Embracing that chocolate streem,
The words that come to mind
Are far away, lost
On some forest path
Behind a four foot guide.

My conscience died with cheap grace,
My love with religion.
What's left is sold on loneliness
With all its amenities;
Quiet nights, anxious waiting and poetry.
It could be quite romantic
Except for the nice guy syndrome
Which really just means its in my eyes;
That path keeps winding,
The elephant grass too tall to see
If anyone is watching
Like I am watching
The dust, the sweat, the lack of tears,
And the blood red sun, setting
With a surety I wish I understood
Like my fear of the coming night.