I've practiced this for hours, gone round and round.


Ok, I've thirteen more days with you.
And everyday this number is dwindling.
The day you walk into the gates I might crumble into pieces,
allow my dust fly along behind the plane.
Because I cannot do this alone.
Not when my shield, my outercovering leaves.

So tell me, how can I send you off, watching painstakingly the exit of my security.
But how can I possibly not see the last of the cause of my uplift.







Now, I'll just remain here in my dark.
And when you return I'll tell you all my vicissitudes.