The venerable one's
|
Doctrine was crowned upon us
|
Humanity's noontide gain...
|
But the king was a phantasm
|
The crown but a porous withered wreath
|
Upon a tattered grimace
|
Our myopic gaze
|
Of a diaphanous tenet
|
Occluded all thought
|
Of solidity
|
Encircled by the frail cannon
|
Beset by the strength of support
|
The confines of validity
|
Are entrenched in rough soil
|
Traces of the forms
|
Dance on the wall...
|
Unrelenting iron
|
Sleek cold steel
|
Clings to our wrists
|
As a vulnerable child
|
(To the stoic guardian)
|
The dead weight of
|
This permeable helmet
|
Anchors us to the motionless rocks of chaos
|
Reflections of fidelity
|
Distillations of veracity
|
Specters of substantiality
|
(Cavort upon the wall)
|
Must this burden
|
Be bourne unto our backs
|
As the world
|
On Atlas' shoulders?
|
If we were to lose
|
Our grip on the globe
|
Could we laugh
|
As we witnessed it
|
Crash into the stars?
|
The explosion will shower us
|
In the elements of experience
|
Encumber us with the weight
|
Of reality...
|
Yet free us by serving as the lustrous key
|
To our rusted manacles
|
Traces of the forms
|
Dance on the wall
|
In time with flames
|
That provide false warmth
|
|
-----------------
|
Dissolution Of The Forms
|
| Garden Of Shadows |
