East Of The Wall The Apologist
Bound to kneel. Bound to go awry. Condemned to argue
until we die. Bound to feel something more than I. Pulled
through stumbling. Can’t you find your way gone?
Thought the bough was able. Thought the height was scale,
and the vertigo’s draw would show clemency, not scorn.
Plunging comatose. Lost in those dull words.
Bound to feel something more than I. Now we kneel in the
breaking light. Respite is fleeting and loss is ours. Let
go, now it’s time we fell.
Don’t you walk away. Don’t you walk through a thousand
changes. Though the alchemy burns me. I can’t save you,
but I would argue.
The morass that we’re swimming in wont let us catch our
breath again and now we’re sunk. The tide that we’re
drowning in rises past our eyes again and now we’re sunk
Don’t you walk without stones. A lift without a load to
pull you over. Don’t you climb without a hold. Don’t you
let go. Can’t you see your days encumbered?
The vast is made of parts. The scope just dots, and we
all move the path we’ve drawn. But mine… to walk it is an
art, defined by the strong. But I’m unclear this day.
