This summer has been gracious with blue skies, and the sounds of a harmony from the woods around

The mothers carry their kits and cubs, to places of safety and rest

The flowers do their best to hide from the eroding heat, the grass seems to dance with the waltz of the wind

But it seems my bones are still as hollow as the winter came, the spring never seemed to make them whole

Summertime blues as the song would say, but the blues are all but foreign to what is the trial in my mind

Alll the while I feel as the cardinal stuck in the grated sewers of Rome, no flight or cadence to sweep my sorrows to the skies above

I am a grounded leaf, floating to the streams of a modest river, never reaching the lake to take me to the beyond

This stasis is a peculair feeling, one of fuax majesty and no supreme devinity

The lonliness is a formidable nuiance, a scratching leech on the edges of my mind

The sun looks so bright on the mornings I wake up early, the rains that arise as quick as God’s sins, leaves as the innocence of the past

So tonight I’ll walk a wooded path to a place I never knew, for the unknown seems to be the only thing that has stability