Fall in Vinalhaven, Maine, US

On the steps of doom I loom
that's easy to figure, if you know me,
for all others they will have to learn
but it is not of my concern - anymore.

Politicians strive for proliferation and recognition -
it sure looks all the same to me, a wishy-washy addition.
No substance, no promise, no direction.
Is this what they call perfection?
And the house named earth stays barren
while you and I climbed that stairway to heaven
not knowing what to find.

Oh, shut up with your stupid rhymes
it is only the heart that finds,
death or recognition.