from by Rob Gehrke

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The branches cold
With snowfall thick
You were so impatient
To show me

The eyes of a child
Whose pride is stirred to the quick
When I touched you
I knew that you were sick

The smell of death
Ran through every vein
But you were sure to start again,
The next day become sane

The eyes of a child whose pride is stirred to the quick
When I touched you I knew you were sick

And when the clouds come over you
The child becomes assassin too

Matchless beauty
In a pure heart
Killed in the womb
Before it could start

Forced to tend a land so vast,
Heavy, it would hold you down
Your voice in the silence drowned

It curved the Earth, without making a sound,
Swallowed by the forest and the rocks in the ground

Innocent, you push your hands through the poisoned soil
That will one day bury you, there are so few who stay


from OUT, released October 30, 2010



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