We borrow time from trickster gods
to build the walls of modest homes
now foreclosed, they shudder and moan
with echoes of laughs and loving
pervading through the dark, still air
what’s left behind kept undisturbed
seeing truth now written clear:
no happy ends for pixies.
with mournful gazes back at those
who proudly swore to shield ourhearts
we forgot our given roles
to only serve to save them
g l o s t i x 