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Time it hides behind broken doors, and mirrors that reflect the wars that are fighting in your consciousness.

It dwells with monsters hidden in the darkness and death inside a world of sharpness.

It cuts the sky from cloud to sun and bites the ground for everyone.

The dirt it lays upon your breast for wonders and the lovely taste,

Of shores and waves washing with the tides,

As the moon its shadow hisses its pride it cries.

The tears that fall, fill the lakes, as water washes and flows in haste.

I'll swim into the deep,. Where drowning virgins weep and gather on the ocean floor,

For there discovered is the whims implored, of eagerness and softer cheek,

And memories of the lost and meek.

Take my hand and walk on Through, the empty wall where gardens grew

And the pictures on the wall will eye the stranger, tall, and the black of it remarkable.

She’s sitting in a net, prepared if love should fret,

And scarred is her ambition hence,

As the roses line the picket fence.

And grow like locks of prison doors as her thorns as sharp as mouths of whores,

Who sleep in cast and endless fate, upon the wisdom of all who seek,,

A gentle time and cosmic book. Its words will follow through the space, put there by the human race,

And death will naughtly surly come as black will tell u to come undone.