Thursday, 31 July 2008


I stood and walked and didn’t look back.
I left you wrapped and curled like a child.
Covered in the leaves of this barren day.
I stand before the man who made all this.
Son of the skies and stars,
Son of the dust that collects on me.
Son of all that drift this land.

I held a chrysalis in his palm,
As a sea of change swept through the land.
No more harm he says, emerald waters cleanse and cure.
Dawn climbs from dark, grey sheds on mortal hands.

Some say they scared of change,
Some say they’ll just rearrange.
Get dressed up and play the game.
Time passes so quickly, voices become the same.

Encased in a sea of mist.
Covered in lime. Sank in brine.
I cared for you as if you were mine.
The voices of the living and the silence of the dead.
The smudged ink of things I should have said.

I hold a mirror to this barren land.
It swallows immediately all it sees.
It shows the shrinking of a boy, small and scared.
And the birth of a man, day after day, who tries to care.

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