WORDLESS QUESTIONS FALL LIKE CLOUDS OF HOPELESS WONDER
TO THE PARCHED AND BROKEN EARTH,
THAT CRIES FOR ANGELS' TEARS.
AS BITTER WAVES BATHE LOSS WITH SANDS OF LIME.
ALAS, OUR HOPES, ENTOMBED IN STONE, LAY FIXED FOR WONDERMENT
ANOTHER THOUSAND THOUSAND LIFETIMES, 'TIL FLOODS OF BRINEY TEARS
BURN THE EARTH AND VANISH INTO TIME.