Have you ever seen a city reflected in the clouds?
The land beneath my feet is weeping.
It's crying for something so dear
I probably can't even feel it anymore .
The blood tears trickle through my toes
But only salted iron tastes the pain.
There's a dizziness in the sky,
A distance.
And the wind whispers secrets of the deep demise.
Still I'm blank.
The easterlies wail yet affect not a hair on my sleeve.
I pluck, I pull, I scratch until I'm immersed in hematic condensation.
My empathy howls but my body doesn't tremble.
I am stone.
Not stone, stone crumbles with these secrets.
I am not stone.
I am air.
With wispy water vapor I glide.
I cry through my indifference.
For what?
If only I were made of stone.
The land beneath my feet is weeping.
It's crying for something so dear
I probably can't even feel it anymore .
The blood tears trickle through my toes
But only salted iron tastes the pain.
There's a dizziness in the sky,
A distance.
And the wind whispers secrets of the deep demise.
Still I'm blank.
The easterlies wail yet affect not a hair on my sleeve.
I pluck, I pull, I scratch until I'm immersed in hematic condensation.
My empathy howls but my body doesn't tremble.
I am stone.
Not stone, stone crumbles with these secrets.
I am not stone.
I am air.
With wispy water vapor I glide.
I cry through my indifference.
For what?
If only I were made of stone.
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