Wings of Cloaken Skybirds

Death of a ceiling broken past

Remains of regret for niceties

Falling too fast to catch

Timed too inummerable to measure

Clogs and slips the gap

Running out of sharecroppers

Land of our souls  impasse

Two many of whole

Three nutmegs in a bowl

Fortnite clasped so tight

Fingers around the cone

Silence of creatures 

Wind blows against our home