Cold, slow, she scratches at snow
Until seeing green glow of lichen
Emboldened, alone, advances of toads
being lowered below just to spite them
Following flow, detaches to show
just how eagerly she can invite them
An actor unknown with wings folded low
Last eagle sees loneliness tighten
Falling in thrall of a wink and a call
a ruby controls where his mind goes
Appallingly small, the ones you think tall
The Rubicon trolls stir inside those
giving their all, when their blinkered steed falls
accruing dead goals in the sideshows
When your limbs stall and you think on it all
are you being contracted to write compromised prose
or are you honest?
Are you naked in the field
with just just compass and bonnet
to protect you?
Are you awake to the sword
only wielded to let you live on?
Or falling for fakeness of empty words shielded in song?