reach the arms a tree at night
burnt and black it stole the light
and you know what it is that i feel

and when your fingers pull and fight
and they braid and weave inside
making planes and trees ignite
destroying all that they feel

growing bright above the planes
what has happened to the weight?

and you know what i is that i feel

are we so lost that we stopped searching.
are we so lost that we stopped walking.
are we so right?