Back to bank I lean, trenches bind my wings
Mud surrounds my knees, wade through pettiness
Lost the form of sleep, marks upon my skin
Why's my soul so meek?
Retreat into my keep, wilfully
Wistful heap, wounded, blistering
Gift me sleep, wish for pause and reach
Truthfully, I flee from current me
Cross me slumped, looming form of frailty
Weakness won't leave me be
Pale ghost inside my head
Male boast out from my pen
Days choke, contain my flesh
Actions don't precede intent
These twigs will form my nest
Heat brings me out my bed
Weed keeps me on my legs
Please keep my heart beating inside my chest
Without her by my side, it might have come to end