Who bleeds for me, To who forgets me? Who causes themselves to decline To my level? Who waits for me While I dine on ashes? There is a pebble To be hurled into a lake. There is tall grass Where there is fire to burn it. I seem to have leaked A tear to cross my cheek. I seem to have seen The saddest stories for my fingers to graze Their stale pages. Pain draws my mouth closed, Like a curtain over the final act. I have been worshiped By stars without a moon Near, for their parenthood. Who saves me, In my rottenness? Who wants me, While I have leaked blood from my wrist? The dismembered portrait Of a man without a name. The atrocious beginning to the subtle ending Has been lost in melancholy. My eyes raise To the falling sun, As I bleed Waters from my stare, Closing storms in often bewares.