The hotelier

Fear of good

The hotelier
Skin, caked with sap of pine
Can't catch against my roaring mind
The coat slips off my etched spine
It's a weight no longer carried
And I'm freezing

A message to my brother sky
I long to hold your hand tonight
But when up against this summit's height
I'm tense, I'm small, I'm speechless
And I'm freezing

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