“The bells will ring my fingers will burn.
The sun will grin and my heart will churn.
I know not of darkness, no sin nor evil.
Yet it comes, shaped as bullets of air and sounds of the tongue.
If I were to scream, would you hear it? Or shove me back into the tear-filled eyes of earth?
I suppose, my fingers would chill and my heart would slow but my ribs would crack and my voice would slip.
My name would fall and my soul would combust.
Earth will cry for me.
I am sure of it. They tell me secrets in my sleep.
They; because earth is not one. Not an him or she or an it.
A they. Not an I or me.
As I do not belong in the suns domain or the disease of today.
Yet I am here.
So the earth will wash their oceans into my veins as I sleep without a name.”