“Temptation is born from every breath,”
He said, taking a drag from his cigarette,
Then he threw it on the stony ground
And turned his back on the misty town.

Overhead, the skies remained gray
Blending the hours of every day
From moments past to moments born
The dingy gray town was all he had worn

“Take your time in what you choose,
With each step you gain, but you also lose.”

He walked along the road heading north
Feeling that his life had run its course
Weeping words from rain soaked lips
Meaning, and thoughts in pieces and clips.

And as he plodded toward that gray sky
He didn’t wave or say good-bye
Tattered clothes and a pistol at his side
His words kept flowing like the endless tide

“This is the way we love when all the world has hate
And this is how we fight when we’re slaves to the state
When money has meaning and hearts can be spent
This is how we live when our souls are for rent.”

In the cold, gray mist his words rang true
Dirty, cracked fingers, bloody and blue
A shot was heard, or maybe a few
They found his body down the road from Kingsview