Crooked Timber
Therapy?
Miles away from
Those that matter
Unfamiliar place
Hours bleed out and
Days tail off then
Night degrades to gray
Crooked timber
Keep me warm and safe
Bells toll slowly
Loud dark iron
Can't place where I am
No clear signal
Scraping dragging
Fate pulls faces
Crooked timber
Steer me keep me sane
Time's attrition
Grinds these landscapes
Sifts them into shape
My resistance
To its pressure
Buckles more each day
Crooked timber
That we can't make straight
My shade will comfort you
Share
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