The Pilot

Silky oak softly sways
Your shadows dance across my face
Slow thaw as winter fades
Escape the hold of his cold embrace

These things take time to come undone
But I'm starting to become
Gold arrival of the dawn
I'm starting to become

Please forgive my vacancy
Got lost in spaces in between
My imagined penitentiary was a chrysalis; a nativity

These things take time to come undone
But I'm starting to become
Gold arrival of the dawn
I'm starting to become

Though dark the corners of this church
Have faith, the pilot always burns
It always burns
It always burns



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