Dark, cold grey, a misty eary place
No one to save from grace, nowhere to hide a face.
Just an empty dark space.
Sure, there's a ground, soil,
where the germs do toil, but
they merely leach nutrients so,
nothing here can grow.
But a seed, floats, drawing closer to the land.
Unlike others, it eshews the quick sand.
The fire there is supposed to kill the seeds.
Its not right, nothing grows here, not even weeds.
But it lands, and it carresses the gound before it bids it way to sleep.
In the dark hollow land where most people weep. |
