Through the Script

Hear the songs
Bang the gong
When your time has come up
A tragedy
Lost at sea
All you have is a broken cup
That you tried to fill
Only swill
Ever seems to stay
No matter how you try
Your told to die
Not always the month of May
The summer and fall
Building walls
Centuries and more
Getting boring
No more soaring
Hidden is the core
That needs to stretch
Whenever met
Canyons far and wide
Making up your mind
Flying blind
No longer any sides
Feeling dizzy
But never lazy
From your own, point of view
A city or forest
or The wise learns from the fool
In modern times
No more signs
The last and deepest hole
Anything new
End up blue
What you’d call, a chosen role
From the script
A match is lit
Burning up all to know
The tree inside
No longer hide
Finally, the time to grow