Cloud Cuckoo

Laid upon my chest were stones
Taken from the earth that bled,
And none held back their hands
To stay, even for a moment,
That which should have never been.

The earth may weep for those betrayed
But sorrow is a passing emotion
Staunched by time
That tells of other woes,
So we each must separate from that which
Can no longer be carried.

They laid the stones upon my chest
And left me to bleed upon the darkened earth
But time must pass and stones become
Pebbles to place on rocks in memory
Of that which has departed.