I have nothing to lose.
The other times I might have; a shilling or two, a heart that knows true, a mind full, a spirit unknown.
I had so much to lose back then,
now just look at me.
Standing in the hot winds of that Summer heat,
chest naked and loins adorned with the softest silk tell you.
Knees all buckled and toes into the deep ground dug,
do I look like an ancient assassin?
Do I look like one who needs a warmer palm to lay random cheeks frozen by hard cold tears of the past?
Do I look like he who has nothing to lose?
I have little Secrets I have to tell the maddening world before it shows me its beneath.
The grave deserves not a single Secret.
I have lost faith in the turnings of the sea.
I have lost faith in the strength of the tides and the waves.
I have lost faith in the lies that the rays of the sun make me shine dullest.
My secret is;
paper burn paper ash.