Burial

Islands floating in the distance.
Rain clouds are compiling
Their armies to stream
Down the empty waterfall

Thin oxygen are filling
My lungs,
My cerebellum,
And my liver,
(They're starting to make a small expulsion.)

I can see nothing but
The white storm
Closing my sight
To the nearest water

My gravity defying hands,
And the dark blue skies
Made a promise
To never fall down.

Islands floating in the distance.
Rain clouds are compiling
Around my freely flying soul
Pushing my astral
My mental
Back to the
Shattered grounds.