The soul contains: 300030660000
In my hand I have a thousand grains
of sand that blow ‘cross unspoken plains;
a continuing desert of love and pain;
of hate that billows on life like unchained.
And in each grain of sand, one soul contained.
And within these groups of grains of sand,
Lay claims of ownership to our collective land.
Within these claims some grains are lost;
Into larger mounds and balls of dust.
Ashes upon ashes, our hopes and dreams
are lost for the sake of sporting teams.
One red, one blue, an idea, one hue.
And in these grains of sand, a clue.
Each grain, one mind, no soul less true,
each and every grain of me, Is you.
The eyes refrain: 200600000109
I am the thunder of a howling storm.
Beware, those who seek to trespass and project.
They may seek blackness in my form;
But try with might, define my self protect.
In my reflection, you mourn your tears;
As if expecting me to run away.
You place my self in your blackest fears,
But blessed be, this blessed prey.
For in my soul, black crystal forms,
In tune with light, that is my right.
Should you attack me with your gracious horns,
I will remove my sun from your crooked sight.
The voice laments: 700012003000
Feed upon the darkness,
swamp of confusion manifest.
Screaming shadows left free to harness
modern times with ancient debts.
It seems too simple not to notice;
the clouds that gather overhead.
Might enforces a cooling furnace,
facing mounting heat that falls like lead.
Swim alone in this eternal movement;
dancing globes of walking fire.
Energies seeking meek entombment;
searching minds sleep like mournful lyres.
Time unfolds over truths laid bare;
with bodies emptied of all that’s real.
Idols lessen need for souls to care;
Thus as shades remain, too tired to feel.
Watching, waiting for the next enticing meal.
Is it so far gone, and too deep to heal?
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