When humanity is the cost of freedom, slavery becomes salvation.
When ignorance is the destruction of all, enlightenment becomes the destruction of one.
When a nation is convinced of another nation as being evil, that nation becomes evil itself.
Lost in the darkest night, without the slightest light to guide the way.
Chaos of a gentle kind, swims about the heart of the fallen.
A blank page is salvation enough for a demon.
Caught between two worlds and nothing eventually changes.
Till the dawn of time, the birth of life proceeds the extinction of all reason.
The coldness rises, up through the body.
The pain is there, promising tomorrow.
Fullness is an empty expression and only tension ever remains.
The light is enough to light up the page but never enough to burn it away.
So excuses, too, remain, and forever is also lost.
Circle, circle, circle.
All we do is circle about.
Continuing on in death of sleep, while nothing ever changes.
Only the external changes, only the seen, not the unseen.
Only the material, the superficial, and so change is always incomplete.
And so, nothing changes.
Slow morning, you’re here.
Is there nothing in the place worth saving?
For even the greatest glory of man is but a passing shadow of death,
and even if born from on high, man is but a passing shadow of life.
Oh, is it possible to ever be truly real?
The silent song of eternity’s whisper.
What a big difference a little makes.
And then, there is, of course, the music we add in.
Help us now, for we are in the greatest of needs.
We’ve forgotten how to live and our hearts no longer bleed.
Bless the ground from which we eat.
Bless the spring from which we drink.
Bless the sky from which we breathe.
Bless the sun from which we see.
And, in all things, bless us with the spirit of life, without which it would matter not
how much we ate, nor how much we drank, nor how much breathed, nor how much we saw.
For without the spirit of life, we are still not yet alive.