The words I’m taught wont bead me a feather
Rather sleepless pounding cotton seams
Daytime builds an ark out of leather
No captain ever sail my dreams

Some food for my childish mouth
Never soothe my tummy of fright
Been told my words do get me there
Though in dreams the angels tongue is numb
Real life it bounds them strained
I hide my hands, they’re my darkest treasure
Caress the wings of who no one could see
One day they’ll rise, and so I’ll be
The light that tried my way to heal
Dead layers of perceiving, fastly melting
Dripping down my warm core of gold
Sailing is dead
Living to nurture
Not man, money goes further
Sailing is dead
Nurture is slaughter
I bead my feathers
To the day they’ll rise