The watchman
Your fire burns for the world
And it sometimes scorches your own skin
Your love refuses to be
But in abundance
And yet somehow it also knows
To bypass this very face of yours
Oh dear, dear child
You do find your reflection
Quite unbearable at times
To close one’s eyes
To forge ahead
To refuse to listen
When what you hear you cannot bear
No play remains
Once a heart is set on fire
By the watchmen of the north.
No play remains
When everything matters.
