Writing a note for the illiterates.
Forth from the hidden valleys of perdition.
Arranged by grace and constructed with care.
A poet's play is just the poet's take on life.
Is that a sign perfected in details?
Oh are these the tracks left behind by drunken nomads and misguided wanderers?
See how they've stretched from the boundaries.
See what they've brought from the sanctuaries.
Liars.
The murals have been purged beyond recognition.
Shamans.
This cannot be reversed.
Why have I come to see as the world crumbles under me?
Don't Renounce (Don't Renounce)
I am real (We are real)
You are not forsaken
We are lost in all translations, and hallowed whispers.
Aloof in silence.
Prostrating falsefully.
Liars.
The murals has been purged beyond recognition.
Shamans.
This cannot be reversed.
Why have I come to see as the world crumbles under me?
Aloof in silence you're prostrating falsefully.
Sleep madman.
Find peace in yourself.
Within yourself.