To die is to be free,
As to be free is to set sail.
Set sail on no man's trail,
And becoming but a tale.

Peace leads to chaos,
As tyranny contructs order.
Harmony can be forced,
As long as the music moves further.

To dream is to hallucinate,
As to hallucinate is to run.
Running across the hazy field,
Chasing the setting sun.

To sleep is to die,
As to die is to rest.
Rest from the tiring task of living,
Laying laxed in respite.

You stroke my hair
Whilst I smooth the flesh
                          That without muscle hangs

Outside the clouds
Turn into a landscape
Obscured by haze
                                    In that blissful moment
I forget the fading time allotted to us
And the reality
Of both our consequences

oh, the bliss that must come with
the ignorance to your own actions
the knives you spit with vehemence  
whether involuntary or by choice
a deaf man could’ve felt
the disappointment in your voice