All the children often went on a class trip for art
Upon the hills of Scotland, we gladly embarked
with a sandwich for starters and our paint and brushes kit
Tagging in partners, we embraced the gusty winds
One day Wayne had struggled with letting go
We would forsake the bunch and inspect the slopes
The trips ending opened the door for us to detach
With intent and focus, we wouldn't look back.
Instead we both would go to discover a path
Going forward we scanned to find a hole in the ground
I uttered a gasp, holding my mouth
We stood to examine with smoke all around
Engrossed by surroundings, we began ambling forward
Inside the mountain the meandering waters
Painted the fortress, for Wayne in his head
Inflamed him to sketch, which led to a chain of events,
He raced to an edge, finished but was looking troubled
engaged on perfection, closer he walked and stumbled,
It swayed his direction and in the mud he tumbled
He rushed and shuffled, I raced towards him,
Reached with all my muscle, straining awkwardly,
I heard, "Save my drawing and I'll leap to the brink
"Reach out or you will sink" I responded in turn
"We do this quick, or its not gonna work"
But he wasn't concerned, he relinquished the art
Id grab hold of it nervously without tripping alarm
Only to turn to see a dip in the marsh.
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