Staccotto

It is the path of sin that compels our fate

And leaves us drowning like the garden

Is it surrender that confuses us

If not existence then departing

Is it the ancient soul that crouches low

That thru the day can never find us

In our stealing glances we appear

Leaving reflections just behind us

The tender hallowed ground still holds us

And whispers silence to our ears

These frightened winds havе always blown us

Now only glisten holds us here