North Star

The luggage of my past
On the train of time
passing me by to Waite ahead
at the moment spot
Where I’m likely to greet you
To tell me I’m out of line...

Heavy fog on my shoulders
Pushing me off the edge of honesty
into the pit of lies.  
Free falling Into the sun below
Engraving its memoirs
In a foreign land with tattooed trees
Of strange faces asking
to take them with me
I'm looking at the cold colored
whiskey moon
the color of your eyes
My North Star

I can still manage a thought
observing a pregnant tree
Wishing to be reincarnated a rose
For you to pluck and smell
To get into your head
Hear your thoughts
Touch your senses  
Write a note on a wall  
Graffiti of past sacrifices
I join them as I sign my name
Before you exhale
Taking me to exile
Once again, It never ends
Again, I search for you
My North Star