Travel of the Amniotic

Travel near and far in tow
Over, under, high below
Strapped to a weight
Wherever you go
Would it hurt to admit
The things you don't know

What do you see
In the art of the dearth
is repaet of the barren
Beyond colour's worth

In to the line, your angle bestow
Power, hunger, nigh is the blow
Trapped to a fate
However you grow
With the dirt on the bit
The wings shiver so

What woll it be
at the end of my birth
Is defeat of the air
In the teeth of your mirth