The sky was not burnt people were not grey
shadows children did laugh people could live
people could die whenever they wish whenever they
had to however they wish as dusk had just been
born time did flow l
Aiming at your vein needs being someone you can't
be becoming something you're not catching your
feet in your fears trying to spread your broken
wings trying to take off contemplating your
failure hanging
Away from this life back to the swamp trampling
the burning ashes of my shattered dreams
underfoot may be facing at last with all my
certainties which have been burnt on the altar of
self confidence there'