The face on the bent

The percussion in my head and the shimmer of the sight,
A lot of the first, a bit of the second made me walk the night

A lot later, after only a few steps, I saw a face too tired to smile

Carrying that face was the rest of the body standing in the bent

Earlier he said, in the paralic waters, he was angry , he had yelled

Funny, how I could only see regret and a little disappointment

Said, his day had been red and the night was running blue

And of course, If I could have I would have painted them each

I paused; Let my vivid imagination run wilder than ever, 

yeah!! the night in a deep purple and the day in a light peach.

Soon after the night was no longer there to be called mine
As I moved on, I witnessed the moonlight touch the sunshine