We leave with heavy hearts and hollow hands. We breathe And look for life on a summer's night. We see it's the Heavy thoughts, the weights of sand. O we get so weighed Down and thereby drown in a sea of fever dreams and Midnight screams until we finally see. The stars are Brighter when you die; until then they haunt you every Night. Biting our own hands until the feed has run dry. Writing in the sand the ephemeral. O shoreline, can we Keep up with the knowledge offered us? The endless stream Will never be enough. Don't waste your blood, we're Vessels in an endless flood, but fear the sound of Rushing love. This day wants you to pull the rug from Underneath the puppet you have come to be.