I wish I squeezed myself in there
Got through to follow foilage fall
To watch your stand. And your decay.
i wish it ceased. I wish it stopped.
Yet to bereave you off the brick
Alike the place no flute is heard.
Abduct you from the muteness gleam
If only I'd encroached first.
Through measures, being awaken more,
Than here (in cortex or in floor)
I'd run and glide towards the light
Upon the subjects left to stop
To shut (or simplier to lock)
The door of temporary ray
Onto the face, right where you've flown
Of slight resemblance to a death...
Thus tell me how shall I assist
To outvoice the foilage fall:
The end of lanes is being indoors
And all the leaves of yours are sealed.