inexplicable

I test his name on the wind and you laugh
I balance his weight in the currents and you frown
And I know that I don't know
But I try and I am sorry

So I cede the field of this battle
Retreat to tend the wounds
Of the veil of fears that sunders
Our hands

Tin is the ring of the rod
On my back and flames are
The toll of the breath
That I breath

Aflame I am scoured and ascarred
To bleed the dross of my words
But unlike the soldier my cast
Is the form non-thing

And I try to say blue and you ask yellow
I attempt the song and you beat a droll rhythm
And I know that I don't know
But I try and I am sorry

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