Stop everything. We don't know how deep we will get. The rush is on and we will be there yet.
Leave everything we once knew because we know it has to change. We can't keep on living this way.
Running when we should walk, we fall.
Tempt the fate. Are we prisoners of the heaven we throw away, a hell we seem bent on to make?
Sew ideals. We make ourselves pregnant with the stones that weigh us down with each passing hope.
The thirst was too much. We drank until the end.
We wander aimlessly as though we were smoke floating away.
Our bones will tire when the sleeping wakes. Emerging from the edges, they've come to make us pay.
A blank canvas for a new creation, the universe only knows the laws of balance.
It will connect sooner than later to a cyclical method.
Reacting to the ebb and flow of our interaction, parts to the ensemble, we are testing the depths.
Lift those who lift you up through the depth of layers.
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