I fall beneath the sun.
I march before the shore. It tears me apart.
I am told to run. Pulled into the blade.
My brother. My blood. My truth. My art.

Will you follow me now? Into the dirt?
Where the sun never follows you down?
Am I to blame? When did all the flowers turn to dust?
Forever I fall. Our leaves. Forever frowning.

Lay me down before the dawn.
Ever wanting. Drying my eyes.
Walk with me. Stare at me. I am here.
My book. My creation.
I now become the skies.