We leave with heavy hearts and hollow hands. We breathe
And look for life on a summer's night. We see it's the
Heavy thoughts, the weights of sand. O we get so weighed
Down and thereby drown in a sea of fever dreams and
Midnight screams until we finally see. The stars are
Brighter when you die; until then they haunt you every
Night. Biting our own hands until the feed has run dry
Writing in the sand the ephemeral. O shoreline, can we
Keep up with the knowledge offered us? The endless stream
Will never be enough. Don't waste your blood, we're
Vessels in an endless flood, but fear the sound of
Rushing love. This day wants you to pull the rug from
Underneath the puppet you have come to be