Taking fairy tale
a Dad with child,
it is in the voices,
love in their smile.

Wave rushes crash
on the furrow brow
where air turns me
see tombstone now.

I reflect not off stone
the ground as home
tells us be replete in
truthes we try own.

A shadow creeps a
form turns so cold.
As the wind screams
I a champion hold.

In my statue I rise
genius of feeble
mind I try hide I a
crux from upheaval.