Here I lay, with the dreams above my catch.
Here I lay, before the rise of my sun.
Here I lay, done against the odds.
Here I lay, beneath the lightened Oak tree.
But without the shadow of peace;
Which was taken from the beauty.
Laying here I think of the golden shine-
Glittering snowflakes and the green.
What could have been done?
What could have been done!
If I wasn’t laying here after all!
If the lightening didn’t strike the Oak at all!
Art: The Omelas by kahvilei