Danger comes to those who seek. A good tree grows in a far corner of the cavern. A branch rots and falls. Its withered husk takes root. A malicious tree grows in a far corner of the cavern. The son of the lost empire must choose the tree.
hide, hide and cover your heads, hide, hide, duck and cover, hide, hide, hide beneath the rocks. hide, hide underneath your beds, hide, and wait until its over, hide until its last the clock tick-tocks.
take the wind out of the sails stuck on the equator without a breeze like dogs chasing their tails i wish for an escape, my sorrows to ease
self asking self yesterday morning what am I depressed about? a pained sadness long standing stuck in a dried river bed- a drowning trout
sky over wheat as clouds rain blood dust hangs in the streets, death marches strong grief overflowing as rivers flood i try to hold on, singing simple songs
a man walks through the streets carrying unknown weight in his soul and grief overhead his duty is to remember and while nine slots to be filled number in eight a girl prays that rain will fall long before september
we wish for a storm and we pray for the rain i call it folley while the warnings remain unread we wish for a storm to come even if it brings pain i can only pray that fire does not strike us dead