Three days from now a revelation will crush your wings,
And the masks you put on will slide away with the winds.
You told me there’s no way to predict what’s yet to come
But I see your future in broken bottles of rum.
Three days from now a tragedy will settle your temper,
You’ll be hiding in the shadows, telling me to call later.
We once promised to never say goodbye because of fear
But ships sink between uncertainties, it’s crystal clear,
And three days from now the meanest thunder will strike,
I’ll say my prewritten apologies and you’ll call it a night.
The moon will dance just one more waltz in our hair
As you fade into the sunrise like the early summer air.
-JW
