The Pied Piper with the GoPro

I sat to watch the cold Maine sunset

On the top of a tower that meets the top of the trees

In the distance is a tall dormitory seen from all around

I know she is on the tenth floor, compared to our little gem

It looked like a tomb.

It was fleeting to climb, and for the last time I stood and took a bow

Knowing I would not be back this way for some time

When the wind was cold and inhospitable, I started to descend

The warmth of the rosy sunset already in the backseat of my mind

I had to construct and effigy consisting of three parts,

and burn it in complete secret

If it were pure, it would burn eternally,

But it slumped into a pile of ash

A fragment of my despair was recorded at will,

whilst I was packing the boxes to leave

I sit in my cave, the little gem

Please no more winter visitors

Suddenly did the child then hate life

in that moment they knew nothing other than the plunging of the knife

deep into sullenly eye sockets

I stared up in disbelief