My eyelids are thick
With dandelion leaves
Sharpened by years
Of natural neglect.
I have not moved for generations
And I have seen shells
Once images of artistic fruition
Die and become less than sand.
If I look into the water
Far below me
It is not a blackness
I can comprehend.
I have seen sunsets
More beautiful than God himself
And still question
My own mortality
In a world determined
To abandon me and my message.
Even the redwoods can not comprehend
The religion behind my crown.
