Web of wood

Lose sands refused to part

As I strolled

Tired, weary, hand in hand

Dying, but not yet dead

Grains between my eyes frozen

Framing the moments slipping by nimble

Not guilty of its smudged verses

Sketches the silhoutte of our being

Do the sands not part,

it is relieved

that our tale is turning

A weightless feather

The last sign of life I saw

Was a fading light and a lonely marionette

Both hanging lifeless by a tree

Hanging by its branches too

Was I

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in a web of wood...