Distorted Cymbals

Lying on the ground
With your wind knocked out
The sky's vast and growing
And there is no sound
And no music

Distorted cymbals rise
The sky's running in circles
The sky is all
Distorted and blinding

Lying on the ground
Looking through a mouth yawning
Yawning and roaring
Gasping and clenching
Who could stay like this falling
Under a tyranny of ceilings
What white light is still swelling
And swelling the ceilings
Sound of distortion
That waves through the trees
Watching a wall get vast

Distorted cymbals rise
In silence amplified
Blind in the ground looking up
Overround by skies