---

Another door open in my chest

Made of granite and oak.

It melts away in the sun,

Leaving just the stone.

Nowhere left to run.

My hands are full.

At the end:

I heave the last box of regret

Into the abyss.

I stand and wonder,

"Who lives for me?"

My tomb in amber,

My life below the silt.

My eyes are pure,

Should I be buried at sea or sand?

I can fight again,

All this bad blood

Turns black and blue.

An elephant

in this desert.

Through the abyss.