Doubt. Heart stunted, cold meaning. Maybe a line in the story buried. No. Fingers slur for words that matter. Give the spark oh gods, never squander. Share with dulled diamonds, I will. I swear it on the foundation. Training ground for immortal swings. Not for stars, but here. Bury feet deep where I stand, or tempt fate to forsake our cosmos. Build a fortress defending my eyes. Burn lies, start new. Linger in this only garden, hearing grass sway to our slow dance. When it’s over and time, my feet and earth one. Fertile ground, our precious garden, swell a stairway to the stars. I’ll be waiting for you.