The legend of June

If it was not for the chill in the air
Then by what does all around us turn by
For we are all singular beings
Bound and round by either the truth or a lie
So it goes our love and life, a double tether
Our bones and flesh never forever
In between fighting to fit the pieces together
Scattered and tattered spiritual feathers
Drops to our makers call, any hour and sour weather
So to toll alone, doesnt explain
Only tags on sleeves of an ultimatum
Unknown witless, but a card-reading medium
As a blank book is to anyone,
A deathbed ridden patient is to waiting
Or a solem vow before a couple kissing