Steam rises as the heat of reality
Pushes hard against what we know is real
Cavalcading down the mountainside
Revoking what in the past was considered a privilege
Yet now we know that a blind eye
Watches and thwarts the perfect peace
That encircles the diorama of life on the outside
Casting curses and shadows like never before.
And the weak bow their heads as sheep do
Walking in circles and rehearsing their lines
Because they only know how to sing
And whatever cause they dream of following
Breaks into a million pieces scattered o’er the landscape
Siphoning energy from those who have no hope.
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