फिशिंग फॉर मिन्नोव्स

Sand is felt on tin as nails or fists on doors
Tore down a war to stand with you man
And I stare at flesh and gore
Now hell and he send horses and messengers
Downwind signing against the gale
I feel slow and shallow as dew grows
New on a tan I felt
Grind the sand into the shore and fish will follow

O
Not

A

Wing
Has half
A
Life
Enough to feel a fellow minnow’s fin