Speak in prose
Because my heart will never
My mind will stay forever bent
And your words will echo endlessly.
Believe me when I say
That I have nothing left to see
Beneath the swollen tree I stand
Forever locked, perhaps,
In the world of sweet melody.
I yield for I know not myself
I crouch to touch the wrinkly stars
Forever locked I will stand free
Held tightly in your arms.