The sea has risen, I am copper expelled to sandy shores and beating hands,
I am the shape of tomorrows guise mottled and unstable, thrown into the fray of burning air and sharpened eyes.
Serenity blurs, disgusting and pure, unto the faces of the leather carriers, pain is a great teacher of many things.
I used to be a little boy with razors swimming in my system, harmonic blazes of truth waiting to grow,
yet something more has overcome me, bending days to match my dreams indifferently, standing by the gates of reality, ready to set all the smeared faces free..