I saw you floating
below the ash
- so fragile,
so pale,
alone in the glass.
I watched your hands slip along the edge...
in between two places,
tracing a life they never lived.
And my heart races;
tracing a life you never lived.
But you can't stay there forever,
you can't be left alone,
floating in the river
- it's peaceful in this dome.
I don't want you to be alone there,
becoming part of the earth,
the leaves caught in your youth...
a picture of almost beauty
- the tragedy of birth.
But you are the one to leave -
under, under, under the bridge.
The hands have built its weave,
the water has consumed.
How, how, how?
Six winters of life...
No one listens now.
No comments:
Post a Comment