He yelled and he begged, he begged to know
Why the air often shifts, who told the wind to blow

Silver pine needles hide amongst the leaves
Where frozen raindrops roll like marbles
A little strange for spring, he believes,
Yet all thoughts he wants to speak, lazily he garbles
He does not remember what spring even is;
He does not remember the names of colours these
Wrecked trees wear upon such weather
He forgot if his love's name was Heather
Or maybe Annatea, Philip, Gabriel, more…
Does he even have a lover? Now he thinks;
The thinking he does strikes him as a bore,
So it fades to memory and to past it sinks
And this memory stays, but not for long;
Weight in his head and body feels just wrong

Seven ravens pass lining up over the sky,
Where the colours overlap in a...