(Michael Timmins )
the fire that burnt inside of me
has turned to ash the tortured tree
that grows beside the anguished sea.
the earth I trust beneath my feet
is moving now ever so slightly
I shift my feet but feel no relief.
if the air you breathed was so unique
would you use it up to idly speak
or horde it for a rainy week.
Speaking kind of cryptically
the sea that raged beside the tree
burning bright for all to see
it just might mean the most to me.
Speaking kind of cryptically.