A Picnic Few Want To Attend

Sky is for fore-speech always
Your voice in the airways
So wake those asleep
Lord, whose only reward is this life here?

May the seeking not be
Put to shame because of me
Don't let those out looking for you
Find a dead end instead

Light the way with fires
A seeking heart it requires
To the way you've hand picked
I find you perfect set the picnic

Dine or just stand far off
Counting places on the table cloth
You look like we've all sketched
Think it's far-fetched, your arms outstretched

Avoids kisses and hugs
Like a snake with earplugs
That ignores the charmers tune
And stays immune to loving you