MatPie

Futile

God would never expect this

A dying bird in a nest

Swallowing the endless void

Bellowing for what seems eternal

I turn towards the sky

Distorted clouds in the shrouds

Wasteful space, wasteful materials

A long string of loose tape

What I did was only for nothing

I only lived, nothing to think

The melody is now syncopated

The notes are now coming to an end

No longer to hold on and pretend

We\'re all ant-walking alligators

Walking off to our own craters