Slow trundle Eyes bound to forever Sunrise collected taken Under sown collection Of mirrors past Seeing from sleeping The joys Of the newfound wing Pulling heart and soiled Wormlike drudging In movements pictures Heavy tenfold Of an iron brigde That will not burn 9 ft of solid mud Holding and stealing The movement of beams Yearnings of swaying Forgotten as once more I crawl your surface For loss I am guilty For this I am sorry