Some stupid little part of me

Still hopes to find a light

Poor thing knows not it’s gone

This is the final night

Through an up path, there’s no way

for light to find us here

The dirt’s been piling on up there

Forever sifting sands

Now I feel the shovelfuls

They’re sliding in as well

Encircling round now fall down

Your light has come too late

Fitchism: Kindness is free, as long as you care.