take my hand and climb with me…
Brand New Colony ~ The Postal Service
The solstice, rides. A raging, steed. Death’s dark, angel. Fierce scythe, of bitter. Wind. Strips tree, of life. And leaves.
Us, a stunted. Day. Prequel to, the endless.
Broken by, the promising dawn.
Our slow orbit, inching. Ever closer, to the benevolent. Sun. To woo, spring’s favour. Back again.
We’ll cut out bodies free from the tethers of this scene…