I hide inside watching from the stained glass eyes 

500 shades of red dance with 500 shades of gray 

The last festival of humility 

With just enough room for a baby's first breath

Mama, Papa don't come home 

Arch my recollection in two 

Bent over at war with pink porcelain greeting card of the viewing that you see now 

Please sign in so it's known who's laughing 

Strings from the hair of the eleventh prophet stretched and strung across the smile 

Fingering sorrow's harp 

My fingers now cracked and blistered 

Call the pain master and I'll bow at request 

Silver stares back before it browns and crusts 

Silver still reflects the spillage 

The calm 

How many times will I circle this room and yet never move once 

Tranquillity of the flesh, water, and tile 

Flesh, water, and tile 

Flesh, water, and tile 

You would think it could get no worse. It will