A thoughtless moment of idle time stood between two shadows
As a messenger arrived to give his sermon on the virtues of his woes
And though the congregation was quiet and unmoved
The messenger grew stronger with each word his mouth drew
He spoke of an idle time when he walked a bridge burning
Set alight by his own hands, wondering why no soul walked with him
He spoke of selling beads he crafted in wicked sleep
Beads that woke his thoughts to misery, he inflicted upon the weak
He spoke of a gnarled, twisted tree that hung his visions high
And he spoke of a dried up lake, where shepherds once came to lie
And as he wept, his soul it fell, and shattered on the rock
Before a silent congregation, who only whispered as he talked
He turned his back, with bloody feet, and disappeared in the hills
A silent voice whispered, though the night had broken still
"When you lose something more important than your life
Only blame or strength can replace the memory of idle time."
