There was a brief period of time where everything sort of fell into place
Even if I had to sever the edges a little
Prospects
Like dead leaves
Were fatal
And it was autumn
But I was oblivious
Oblivious to how the stars become disenchanted by the city
Disenchanted by veterans wounded not by bullets but time
And who were given a salty and solemn salute
I had a forest of plenty
But there was very little I could offer you
I searched every inch of the woodland
Each acre was filled envy
Every canopy corrupted by conjecture
The trees were spider webs in the attics of my youth
Within them I searched
Nothing was hidden or sacred
It was my own
I made a path for myself and walked
Barefoot on the gravel
Just a stones throw from the grave
I met a vagabond and he told me all the ways that I was wrong and I believed him because he was old and I was young
But he wasn't wise
I was just unaware
Reality would inevitably reach me
But for that I would have to wait until winter
And I was impatient
I was a child
And I would only last a while
So I would make the most of it
And remain oblivious
Oblivious to all the signals and flares and smoke and mirrors and gestures
And walls I have to climb, climb, climb, higher with every immature moment of refusal we share
I should turn away but I do not
I will not
Instead I will climb, climb, climb, and overcome for purposes I don't recognise fuelled by feelings I don't recognise
Feelings you've sought to avoid
Feelings you've learnt to despise
Well when I reached you somewhere high above this here wall and ask you to take my hand I implore you to grab hold
For if you do not
I will fall
Naked on the gravel
Just a stones throw from the grave