The gravity
Fierce and pressing
Deeply pounding
Heartache reality

Predictable
To a sliver of a point
We shiver in this joint
Smoking the edges of life
Till all is blurry

Till wild winds
Sweep the fields no more

Till white birds soar no more
And we fleeting flurries
Fall
Feathered corpses one and all

One down and another
In rapid succession

Till the stars themselves collapse

Till the gravity crushes us all
And there are no more
Funeral processions