I had struggle to fix
the tree a ground
it’s dying roots.
It chose my fleeing heart’s hand
that stood blinking
Sometimes I called into it
by spearing my night into its day
so it will know the role of the sun
when the softness is not just to the ground.
To no success only if it’s pain
loss and a tear to remind me of my mockers giggles.
Let time happen and deafen the sound of my voice
while earth pass my will into another.
When will is all lost in a smile
and fate prevails with a smithing fear,
let the bells of salutations uproar
it’s face from the shadows behind me.
I want to hear freedom moaning
and bleeding in the bed on my rooftop – let it leaves wave my goodbyes
so I know what trunks it fooled to stand here.