Chaos mirroring the eye of eternity
As surely as the tightening grip of singularity
From the disgrace of life's mundanity
The purveyors of immaculate imperfection
We the purveyors of immaculate insurrection
We will float through the fog like specters in time
Skirting life's lines staring hope in the eye
Take shelter from martyrs' eyes for it is told in fallen skies
Luminous haze consumes our days
Brought to the face of time
Consumed with flames consumed by blame
In dreams we forgave there at the end of our days
Passing shadows passing time in excess my dreams lie
From where am I child
To what should I pretend?
As a child I spoke as a child
To speak now as other than a child
To that I shall pretend