I open and I see the flaps of a life gone past
And I open once more to two figures black and masked
Dark pools circle around, forming my fear of social norms
Animal skins appear like the rough bark for a tree adorned
The mass of black anteni, huge and round
Now a flower spits from the dying ground
Near the end lies the creation of life
The end lies the creation of heart
All for the animals to tear it apart
Now surrounded by noise and shade
I see the cracks of a mind unmade