I took the lower path Full of pellets, unresolved To avoid the lighted room under the lake I remember at first The tilted blue oceans of the valley As evening took the color from the weeds I tried to keep the bread and water face From showing on the mountain Many years inside the lighted room A lacerated grin hung from my jaw Complicated panes of glass And passing shoulders locked me in When I was old enough I pushed aside a tile And snaked through the cold muck Into the vast and brittle day I took the lower path Full of pellets, unresolved And I let the heat from other days Become my fire