<≪≪ Erosion

One pitched dark night somehow I reached there where lies flat the attic Through the roots of a half dead tree After listening off beat songs I was really very sick If I was told by someone before time The zenith was really the bottom of a pit I would take a run and come down very fast And with delight on the plain surface I would sit In reality I never went to anywhere Yet the pick is not there where once it had been Slowly and slowly the depth breaks away And a great erosion of height has been seen. To make away space for ordinary and mundane