Stolen moments, stolen hours, 
Stolen kisses, stolen flowers, 
Stolen days, stolen years, 
Stolen laughter, stolen tears,
Stolen seasons, stolen time, 
Stolen reasons, stolen rhyme, 
Don’t you bring me no stolen things 
That always disappear

Stolen sun, stolen moon, 
Stolen words, stolen tune, 
Stolen rays, stolen beams, 
Stolen secrets, stolen dreams, 
Stolen heart, stolen mind, 
Stolen things I cannot find 
Don’t you bring me no stolen things 
That are never what they seem

All Rights Reserved. 
Isaac Rowlingson/Kiodea.

Stolen Things

Masquerade Monday

City Lights

Her emerald eyes & raven hair
Her pendulum clock hypnotic stare
Her cheap disguise the breathless air 
I breathe
Her feathered gown & wooden broom 
A one-track town in the afternoon
I was hanging around, how could you assume
I didn’t see?

Your beauty, yes it fills the room 
As we lay in the golden tomb
The long forgotten maze
& the smoke it fills the air
As I look up & stare
Into your haze
I am coming through,
Gypsy

Her crystal necklace & silhouette 
On the long night that I can't forget
Her dancing flame & cowboy hat
Her ruby ring hung down 
By the stars of the darkest night
The rising tide shining so bright
The diamond sands we kept in sight
For the time

I travelled to the moon just to find you
& if I spoke too soon may I remind you 
Of what's behind
Every time you look into the mirror
& it looks back at you
& says, "I know
How you feel,
Gypsy…"

The hollow birds they begin to shout
As the rain pours down without a shadow of doubt
It's dark in here, won’t you let me out
Of the cave?
The rusted pipes they begin to break 
& the endless curtain it begins to drape
Over a cold cut coffin & heavens gate
This can’t be everyday

Your caravan has roamed far & wide
& behind the puppet strings you hide
The cards you play
You got the world in the palm of your hand
But you're on the tip of my tongue 
Don't you understand? 
I won’t let you fall,
Gypsy

& in the saloon I get a faded feeling 
As the tears slip slowly through the crooked ceiling
As I dry my eyes as my skin is peeling 
It all comes back the same
But now the fog is lifted from her unveiled face 
& her mind has shifted right out of place 
& in my heart remains the empty space
Of a memory 

Here she sits waiting for the day to begin
As I sit dreaming about the rain again
As her gin floods my head
Ah, but you & I are like day & night
I’m weary eyed & I
Must say, "Goodnight,
For I am falling fast,
Gypsy…"

All Rights Reserved 2016.
Isaac Rowlingson.

Gypsy

Tell the world a little bit about your self. The shorter the better.

Gypsy

Kiodea

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