It fell straight
Infront my sight
For a blink
To her concern
An urge heavier
Perched my shoulder
To orb her, with
All my warmth
She carried for days
The strike of hunger
In her emaciated look
Bare of bones, and
The soul scattered
How have they ripped
The layers below
With scythe of time
No more, no more
Do this for any mortals
Very weak are our hearts
It tears down profusely
In excess of concern
I hold smaller brain
And a bigger heart
To every vision
Thee ply thy sight
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