I feel the weight of head on hands
The crowd’s roar’s running over
Images are standing on the stands
And I am judged tonight as rover.
No killing, violence or plunder
It’s just for road above, not under.
And wrathful voices in my head
Demand the payment for my debt.
They want no money for redemption
I have to start my self creation.
I see the earth beneath my feet
If only I would be, like it, replete
With all those shaking scorching stones!
And then, perhaps, I wouldn’t let my bones
Petrify, embracing all my flesh and mind,
Making that annoying sound of grind.