While you were plotting their downfall
Someone else was mastering yours.
Proving it will prove tricky as
with gardens in season in the winter
there are no flowers at all.
And how can you grow when
it is so cold that dew freezes
and falls off to the ground.
I speak Gods word and today
that word is strange. Strange rules me.
Where are you hiding? Your pitchfork.
My hay. Eyes in walls. Beyond understanding.
Grand larceny of my thoughts and feelings, of me.
Of you.
Material things get the better of us 