A dash of blood and brains upon the stone
In streaks and strokes designed by gravity
Leading down to the broken body, bone
Erupting from the arms, a leg, a knee.
We saw him disappear across the side,
Heedless of all our yells about the drop --
We heard the branches breaking as he died,
We felt the grip of guilt he would not stop.
Two hours down, we now surround his corpse --
We can't respect our fellow rebel's choice
Refusing to obey our voices' warps
And woofs -- and now the wind's the only voice.
We live our lives in anarchy each day,
But that has never mean never obey.