Looking For Gold | Halo

The thin blue ceiling

Over my head

Is no more a sanctuary

I step to the center of the earth

Holding nothing in my hand

But some feathers

And a sip of wine.

And that heart of mine,

Is not for rent

Or with a white flag over the door

Some lemon zest,

And the aroma of a flute,

Spreads in the air

I take that air

Deep down

Down and deep

Fold my palms

To catch a crystal

And smile.