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Staghorn

de In Mourning

I stand upon a daring height
These wounds will not stop bleeding
But these rivers will run dry
The salt will be diluted

And the earth as black as tar
On towards her own perdition

Treacherous and out of hand
My veins are filled with ice
Like dying wheat and broken thorn
Mother earth, become unborn

I see much clearer now
And further than before
You caught the weight of the world
And it will drag you down

Give me the strength to regrow
One year dead and one year gone
Beckoning green again
What has fallen will rise again

You stood faded, beaten and torn
In golden, bronze and copper foil

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