The branches are falling,
The city burns,
The people are leaving,
Yet my body yearns.
Is it the fear instilled,
That keeps me put,
Of what I could be,
Of what I was?
The wheel turns,
The whip is cracked,
As a new day rises,
Time will tell.
May 12
May 12, 2026 at 1:02 PM UTC
The branches are falling,
The city burns,
The people are leaving,
Yet my body yearns.
Is it the fear instilled,
That keeps me put,
Of what I could be,
Of what I was?
The wheel turns,
The whip is cracked,
As a new day rises,
Time will tell.
