The gravel fell and fall again,
To the end,
Of the world.
The places sit,
Besides the moon,
The wretched oceans we had seen.
Opened to the sky,
I am but a butterfly,
Wings of the ash now laid bare.
It fell to me like the chandelier in that dream,
The Meadows hadn’t felt but a tickle,
And I wallow in paralysis.
Don't foresee what's yet to be,
When the children fell again,
Hold those broken knees.