Will a flood be how i die?
Is tears an uncoloured blood from my eye?
A child is a texture of admirable clay
A man is a torture from a miserable day.
Anyway, some wombs are removed, they say
To not remember what tombs used will weigh.
There are waters some will never cry
Pleasure is pain others will try to apply.
If i have to, i’ll choose to leave
Harder than this is the choice to live.
What will a miracle do?
What will we be drawn to too?