heavy lids for good, closed for the last time
what was really true and what was just a lie
gently lowered down, seemingly to rest
was this just a game, or was it all a test?
What was the purpose of this young boy?
But to sport intermissions of poetic noise
the roots of trees wrap remains tight like lovers arms
the dead not know of disdain though they're safe from lovers harm
the earth reclaims the body, the sky it's fair share of souls
demise is etched in granite, the pieces resemble the whole
the answer to their questions like you eternally rest
live now only through memory the truth remains anyone's guess