Bare feet. Wet grass. Flood flowing from his face.
These feelings that he's feeling, they're complex, they're intense. Such a fall from grace.
His muddled up mind, a maze, a map turned upside down by the crazy fucking fool in the sky.
Or perhaps it's the damaging devil, hidden deep inside.
He stutters, stammers, wanting to yell but to afraid to try.
He's feeling these fucking feelings, but he doesn't know why.
Drenched feet.
Soaking grass.
Tears covering his face.
Once a joyous boy, such a fall from grace.
