No crop is growing in my empty field of thoughts
No crop grows But total crap

I walk endless to trep on a trap of muse
to find maybe something to light a fuse
I find nothing, I find only nonesense, that makes no sense

I've wandered so many distances, and came to see the tower
of the hidden
Where it is said all of one's desires and trouble's riddled
Yet I beheld the ruins of a long dead tower and ached at the
sight of this horrid site of dead thoughts

I stood on a cliff of fear
thought of bringing myself to my dear
one step forward and I'm there
fair coldness embodys the air pushed up from the sea below

I look back at the field
no crop is growing in my empty field of thoughts