"You Have Many Wounds My Lady"

citrus colored skis cover a bleeding city
and I rise from a mountain to glance at its beauty
knowing full well about its adultery
and understanding what it means to let it go

you beckon me sparing me on to your goal
but not mine - God forbid
but there I go sparing you on to follow
and I misleading myself because of you

so is my refuge torment Sad...Empty.