Dark devours dark.
Light devours light.
In the art of dying.
I\'ll stab with shiny, bright,
distances with your own soul,
and your own spirit questioning...
the flesh of dying as a permanent earth?
The fight with light and dark.
A marriage to me.
My distances of the call to the spirit.
That silence light scripture of the skies.
Mystery to my eyes.
Darkness I find. In you by the two lights.
One. Darkness and light are alive in me.
I am not a mystery.
I am Yin and Yang.
You are lost in this?
The deep cuts to mortality is the
static fragments from the sense denied.
A mystery to my life.
The penetrating puzzles sit
atop your cares, and things.
The deep cut to my sense of pride.
Are in the cycle of a thousand scriptures.
That waste in your lies.
Sitting atop on a cloud drinking in the seventh sign.
The world that turns is not your prize.
So you watch mortals, so tiny and fragile but it\'s...
the fact that they are Gaia\'s children that frightens you
so and gives us power, so in turn....
the same rules do not apply for your dictators in the sky.
To the mother\'s rules do not apply.