Ben Ottewell
the crossing
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There is a voice
What is he calling
And sing alone in the breeze
And cast a spell
Through the trees
Through the leaves...
By the end patiently
From the faces behind the masks
They yearn to feel
I'm going to meet with you
At the intersection
Paper roses
Butterflies
A final whisper
A secret handshake
Faded stars
In your eyes
I will leave you
At the intersection
The perfect entanglement for the flight
I can see you
It's just a sketch
Shadows fall for the last time