Flying, to be free
The sweet midnight falling,
Windows swaying beneath the hefty breeze,
Shadows mourning for young hearts.
Wallowing falls upon deaf shoulders,
Shadows stand beneath their heavy trenches,
Mourning the dying stars.
Forever to sit in muddied waters,
Is one but a shadowed man,
Set up the walls and set fire to the mountains,
To begin a departure,
Rain down the wings of birds!
For I am free.