dark and light, and dark and light, t'would fill our heart with pride
Darkness wears, and happiness bears its own weight on our mind
We do not think we could take either, both rotate in kind.
Every day, between the tears, when the windshield wiper sweeps a path,look out and see if eternity has changed. Faulty beings? Make our ownstraight lines, but there is no finding a ruler that will not break under our weight. Puppet props, slips of papers with crude drawings of our friends, we place on tables nearby, cannot see around them, while holding them in our hands. Lithmus Paper marks a commitment to change -- new judgements have come to the land of Abel and Ibrahim, another can of paint for our paper idol that was once a celestial dragon. Between gasps of air, there is room to admire the scenery within ourselves, as primal panic strips us bare, purity intrudes upon our illusions, casts grim shadows across intricate spider webs. We have covered Lady Gaia, Chronus's cloak is a pavement, with too few cracks. Not enough seeds, to give ourselves a new saviour, not enough seeds, to slowly crack ourselves open and paint for us a new sky. We abhor Chaos, and tear down the Order, our veins and arteries stretched outside our arms, a bow propelling us to be an outcast from the world.
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