a woman once drowned from lonesome fear:
the kind of sickness
you cannot hear.

she toiled with the time she'd lost
willing to take the brunt
of their cost.

the last word that parted from her lips
was "the fire burned my heart alive,
a pain that I cannot survive."

and the tiller came to take her away.

when the tiller comes to grasp your hand
what will he take from you?
what will he demand?

there is no value to devotion
if you're the only one
swimming in the ocean

so whatever sets your chest aflame
there is no fire
you cannot tame