Long Time Coming

Your light has faded and the music is too loud. The dance floor is too slippery for two steppin'. Thoughts all consuming are starting to make sense. Now is the time to rise above. Walking alone is sometimes better for the soul. This is one of those times. The puzzle pieces lay before my eyes and the riddles, all written by my own hand. Too bad you can't make out the words. No longer do I wish to spell it out for you. Take a moment. Check yourself. Let it go. Let you go.