He walks back and forth without care
Desperate to feel the breath of the cool air
Laying on the sill, staring daggers at the Below...
The man looking back is a familiar one
There is comfort, but there is also despair
His heart can decide if he is able to bear
Should he follow the man?
Should he let it go?
Is it normal to sing to the Below?
He thinks to himself “that man is just that”
So why can’t he help but shiver at?
If the man is just a man, why does he let him have control?
The man is pulling him into his Below
He feels the warm sun put a blanket over him
Shielding him from the man and his waiting breath
The light is telling him it is not yet time for death