The machinations work 
And they hurt
As I make myself small
To appeal to you all
And it’s not because I hold a grudge
That I trudge through all this sludge
Into the mists of time
And my rhyme 
Gets relegated 
Into something somebody stated
One time in the hall
I hold myself back and the freefall
Is more than I can bear
And I tear 
In the fabric rush
And everything I seem to touch
Turns to ash
And I can’t get it back 
Anymore than I ever could
And the wood 
Is the only place I can find peace
From the threat of the decease
As it throws patterns on the wall
And it’s not part of me at all
Anymore
Because that closed door
Opened into a new sky
And I realised I could never die