The crows want me to write a poem
So I abide
When the moutains colide the land
We will be at the bottom of the quick sand
Our sentiments are now sediments
And we return home
Its where the heart is
Hidden behind the tight grasps of rib cages
Hidden between the verse of my odd thoughts
All the forget-me-knots grew taught
Till there grip was a crucifex
Its all fluid congruence
And I will never be through with it
Life is for taking what you deserve
Speaking loud so you can be heard
You are the bird singing in the tree for me
So be and let be