Pebbles in the ‘air’
What are they worth?
Their life is meant to end on the sand
Much like it began.
They exist and continue to
until the blue light annihilates
They wait and seek the destructor
For it doesn’t matter
But it must hurt to be buried.
Even the golden caress is no lure
For they can see no soft – voiced maiden
Calling out, embracing the lost matter
They see the waves dash across, sometimes
Leaving a scar behind
The cold, sometimes ignites
Sometimes, just burns them out
They feel unusually complex on a rainy day,
When the damp roots pull within
They gather what they can
And run towards shelter
Wretched songs they manage to hum,
The tunes that the winds abhor
They sing in ignorance of their true self
They sing to forgive.
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