I was running when I should of been walking.
Hearing instead of talking.
Waiting before seeing.
I could the clock not abound
Why did I miss the sound.
Feet toward the ground
Head in a field of clouds.
Was it dessert bound.
Flounder to a ground.
Life makes space and time
For all of us.
To build an internal house.
An architect by name
A builder in frame.
Yet destruction cast
Everthing would be of past
Steadfast
The truth would
Last.