cowardice, this chain of events gather and plot the ensnaring...
Beautiful, oh web of stars that looms amid the sons...
For thou sweepst me in thy robe of guilt with...
scattered throughout now indefinite form willed to find strangers in...
and although it can be argued whether time will ever...
With each daring new concept creation and form one fragment...
Gently hold our heads gently hold our heads on high...
A bolt of blazing gold, lifted from the horizon's edge...
now as the lights go down deeper now it seems...
A shimmertrace of divinity lost in the beckoning midnight vault...