Salvaged my soul from rattles, and burning candle in the sky,
How we then grew tall in now fallen land,
Remember when we’d sit and recite never-ending dreams,
Never-ending things?
Chase bows and bees, crows and trees.
But now a painting grows on your wall,
with eyes of leaves and skin o’ tender smooth,
directly she stares at you
The centre room, your hearted room
is where you’ll stumble upon her roots.
A thousand pieces of splendour entwined in one,
in this painting that grows on your wall.
Remember the war in Kraw where man sank as ship?
How back to back we stood, and tall we stood?
How we then read in books the lives we took.
Now a painting grows on you wall
A bloom grows in your painting
But why does a painting grow on your wall?
Is my wall not fair, or is it like me too bare?
Yes, her apples glare faithfully green at you,
but a few small steps away from bloom; apples glare at me,
lustily red at me.
What other can I do? But spill your red to
dull brown earth, to paint a beauty on my wall.