My moving form Makes ugly knots in the wind Many long fingers bent in pain The meadow, slick and sewn with frost, Ruined as my footsteps crush webs Into the marble I curse myself and the warm steam curls The moon's gaze is broken as i pass And my shadow starves the moss of light A sharp branch scrapes my cheek Pierced and stunned i frailly ask Was debt repaid? Slowly i am spurned The branch had snapped In the clearing light is low And lower near the sulking brush I lay down my things I would bleed into the earth If it would not break the silence I would enter the ground if it would not make it warm