A wounded soul, a punctured lung,
My friend, we've only just begun!
I thought you knew
This, hitherto,
Won't halt for anyone.
...
The weakest grasp, a brittle rope.
Best hold your breath and.. hold your hope.
You're falling- well?
A citadel
Of rock awaits, a silent trope.
...
Oh! snapping bone and crumbling stone,
And mangled scream with hopeless tone!
Your final song,
Downed echelon,
Ends in grey and ends alone.
...
I thought you knew, I truly did,
I promise, swear it, intrepid!
That stones come down
When danced around
So long they grow weak, decrepit.
