Will the clouds cry dry tears for me when they see my soul wandering hopefully in the painful sunlight that has burned my skin
Will the sun open its eyes to my presence in its heat fulfilling the life it so wanted for me, the life that the moon has reflected in my eyes
The life that the stars bore of beauty, the life that is ashes to my wants and needs
Will the water of this earth drown in liquid beauty if it loses a thornbush
The water of our rivers that flow to wash away the life it gave