Feet planted firmly on the shifting ground
I am what I see,
ruins all around and
most of them are me.

The clouds scatter sly, like a
coffin lid sliding tightly over the sky
and
it's grey.

Today
I shall pay what is due,
a means to my end,
someone lend me a pen so to write.

In a night that would let out the air
I am there in the midst of it,
wanting a little bit
of light.
Someone lend me a pen so to write.

This will pass
so the broken glass spoke
as it said to me,
'firm is not all it's cracked up to be'
I am what I see and
no more.