Living there is not

life here. We must choose a place.

Give up to get us.

Here you only hear

wind from this proud city of

cries, screams, shouts, and wails.

Butter slides slowlyAcross my morning flapjackGolden as the sun

Climb above the clouds

The moon can no longer hide

We hide together.

The waves here are slow

Constant like my tireless heart

After a dark night

The chicken at the top

Can’t understand what he does

To bottom chickens

Life is beautiful

Even in death there is life

Death is beautiful

The trees are waiting

When night comes just as we do

For the sun to rise