'A face'
If you hold the stars in the palm of your hand,
You'll hold the soul of another.
Even as the moon comes into play,
The sky seems to open unto a new hue.
Bricks begin to fall.
Dike, deforming in the rays of moonlight.
Quietly, Quietly,
Rumored to fall,
Pinioned in the blue birds snare.
Lowly,
Slowly the jovial tune sings,
Lonely and sought for
Quietly the moon creeps away.
Replaced by a fiery fight.
Swept away are the stars,
Up, Up,
The bricks redress.
Appalled by the distress.
