Woorden: Tribe After Tribe. Burn.

All my colors won't stop burning

this one for the days
orphans for the bright ones
this one for the plan
hides them all in bright stones
this one for the scream
waking from the nightmare
this one for the hands

won't stop burning

all my colors won't stop burning
this one for the wind holding
the night in my ear
this one
this one for the trees
stroke the throat with fingers

won't stop burning

this one for the hide
a wishbone gone for feathers
this one for the line
between veins and white bones

won't stop burning