Can’t walk away, won’t wave it off, don’t try to breath to take it all
In
So you know the path to let it out
No tears fall fast to point you south
Normally, go where the rivers flow
But water cascades off of crimson slopes
This time
Cliff’s edge used as beginning of sentence for behind the time repentance
Too late
Add your blood to the pot of the dreamer’s non-place on this earth