Wind Field

            Lost
           In a wind field...

Heavy skies
It's raining painkillers
You make noise like trails of fire
Grass would cry
Burnt but bold
Death smokes in your hand
Have no pride, raise your head :
It's all mechanical.

     Round and round
     They'll go down in history
     And not us
     Stop all sound
     If we're lucky
     Their silence will crush us.

A white forest
Of trees you can't comprehend
You broke in an outerland
Where heavy goes highest
We gave in
To more purple skies than we had to
White holes torn in the blue
Judge without seeing.

     Become the wind
     Through strange aesthetics
     They stand tall
     Or just limp
     On muddy prosthetics
     They stand whole

There's nothing
No device left to try
Will we stand here and cry
Or die sleeping ?
To sacral Hell
You ascend from the ground
You're liquidly slowed down
We fell

           When we were
           Lost
           In a wind field...