Tendrils have frayed
on a rope, now decayed,
as it gently sways,
amidst a circle of stones.
How long it grows,
to the darkness below;
floating above shadows,
amidst a circle of stones.
And though it hangs deep,
there is one it can’t reach;
a hand now deceased
amidst a circle of stones.
He tipped with a crash
and landed with a splash;
a thousand screams trapped
amidst a circle of stones,
