all the eagles in the culture
Barking like hollow wastes
In magic
In malice
In song
Oh how I’ve heard it wrong
Times before
And how I’ve never heard it right
Times not before.
In my dreams I am a king
On the tall night I’m calm
For most of the five million children
And all of the eleven parents
Taken blame for blood
And broken bells
Hidden by my quick heeded goodbye
I know you weren’t seen
But felt
Heavy eyes on you
I watched
And I thought
For all this time
That the world
Never quite fit with me
Too boxed up
And I never opened it all the way
Only peeked
Once,
Honest.
Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 4:35 PM UTC
all the eagles in the culture
Barking like hollow wastes
In magic
In malice
In song
Oh how I’ve heard it wrong
Times before
And how I’ve never heard it right
Times not before.
In my dreams I am a king
On the tall night I’m calm
For most of the five million children
And all of the eleven parents
Taken blame for blood
And broken bells
Hidden by my quick heeded goodbye
I know you weren’t seen
But felt
Heavy eyes on you
I watched
And I thought
For all this time
That the world
Never quite fit with me
Too boxed up
And I never opened it all the way
Only peeked
Once,
Honest.
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