The Amber Nest - Foscor

It seems they live trapped in a nest

The cot of amber

Gutless sons, behind imperfection

Rabid hands, loose thrill, seems pale

While dares hit fragile minds

Circles of ragged specters

Where sounds the thud

As a premonition, world smells conviction

Its stupid rules

The constant gust, could shrivel

The light, a primal fear… that sicken!!!

Come, get free, and touch!!!

The flavors of the death affliction

Leave and break at least!!!

These chains are bounds which binds the reason

A line, a sigh, a hill of human lies

Stands up so high and far from wisdom

The being just override, the hidden widow

It seems they fit in the amber cot

Closed, this world is amber