Icicles Of Vine

© 2016 Mark Cote

On a road in the shadows
in an unmarked town
where whispering winds
make a haunting sound
treetops will sway
to a dance undefined
brooding in long
Icicles of vine

words go repeated
yesteryear today
nothing new to learn
so throw it all away
in the ripples of doubt
in the river of time
continue to feed
icicles of vine

(chorus) take your life without a sign
                     icicles of vine
                     wrapping little by little
                     so slight you cannot see
                     getting much colder
                     each step by one degree
                     icicles, icicles, icicles of vine

walking life in circles
or so it now may seem
but when eyes are open
the ending of a dream
reality is cold
it shivers up your spine
but never colder than
icicles of vine

(chorus)