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King in my dream town says, "Here Ye: pride is gone."
Then he has his thrown throne to the ego-birds who fly with
wilted wings and die of broken things like hearts. Heaven is
here if I'd adhere to the King's rule; he says, " a
stranger's heart is raw, its vulnerable so do let your own heart
thaw, or live lonely like the broken ego-bird whose lone stone
heart's strings weight was more than its two sad wings."
Heaven is here...Nervous glances dance like darts around me.
Faces find each other and then won't look. Avoiding looks so's
not to look quite human, when human's got looks likely to find
love in. The end.
