(Untitleable)

Passiveness wields no reward. For me at the very least.

I rest upon these sunken clouds,
as I gaze upon the arena of gods,
Whose ardency easily outruns,
their footstomps and their screams.
All while they float lazily across,
Their forgotten tears.

Thay fight ferociously for a prize,
mysteriously coveted by their hearts,
Slant and sideways they turn-
for their hearts have no fear.
Their majestic arena travels,
Upon tortured tears.

I gave up a sleepy sigh,
and fashioned a hearty smile-
For these gods do not know,
what the heart does hear.
That the prize was once mine,
With a fainted tear.