ROTHKO no 10.

I CARRY YOU ON MY SHOULDER AS WE MAKE IT

TO THE SOUTH.
WE TRAVEL IN SADNESS TO THOSE
FIELDS OF BLOOD
AND THE SKY MADE OF GOLD.
OUR WORLD IS CUT IN HALF,
A MANNERISM.
WE'VE ALREADY HEARD OF IT,
NOW WE SEE IT WITH OUR EYES.
WE CAN HEAR THE POLES MELT DOWN.
DULL AS IT'S NEVER BEEN SO,
OUR WORLD IS LEFT BEHIND.