Percival

If perfect had a conscience
If brilliance became kind
There would be no turmoil
There would be sound mind

When you bid what haunts you
When you draw it near
You will save the starlight
You will cause the clear

scorched earth

So what I lingered
As I do

‘Tis my birthright
My good burden
To notice
To stop and to share

Did you need tear down the house
Ego so starved

The gift of my promise you owned
I was home
When I raised the roof again
You fell to your knees

Out you crawled from our hope 
We filled your chair