It broke my heart when I learned the moon had been passing the sun’s light off as its own.
I can understand someone not liking the voice or the songs.
Never get so attached to a poem that you forget truth that lacks lyricism.
And all that we built, and all that we breathed And all that we spilled or pulled up like weeds Is piled up in back and it burns irrevocably And we spoke up in turns 'til the silence crept over me.
I have a deep rooted folk sensibility that I can't get away from completely.
We deserve to know light. And grow evermore lighter and lighter.