coleary827
When the stars shatter. Bring them to me so I may sow them together in sky. They'll pour forth through the loom and scatter.
Fire me up. Voices clap in rapture and lava. And all around the slow steady hum of static climbs into my ears. Slowly enveloping the poor broadcast. Gone.
Fire me thousands. A lightening broadcast cared only for a porch, and a 90 year old woman sitting on a porch with a mouth full of stores.
He looks at himself, and as he is, he could fire up the starry stallions of night. But as he lives, he must burn up among the grass.
As I spun around among the darkness, I felt your booming presence above my mind. So I rose among the stars, to face your heavenly body.