The fourth day was spent comatose Mind locked away, matter did play Dancing the steps of the Ent Uncaring of anything when the throne was in sight Earthly pleasures before the storm This place was struggling to breathe Mistakes taking shape and walking The fog is blinding, Oh sweet little pea
The fifth day was a resurrection of sorts A new man with new power to drink Arrogance returned with the blind Taking flight to the coasts of gold Again those rusty promises plagued Whether a doll, a tool, or a foolish venture Truth was an impossible gesture It's never that easy, Oh sweet little pea
The sixth day was a realization Rest came easy when the future didn't bark The treasure was buried in the yard under ash And the truth was in the homestead Everywhere at once, the rain trickled The seeds did more than sprout Tap roots and accepting - light words Let the answers find you, Oh sweet little pea
This is the second half of the story. A tale of those I've loved.