Circus of Things
Запись опубликовал Mortar56
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I did indeed underestimate that circus of things
It rendered all my dreams intact from bold critique
Completely out of law by which we live
Entirely alone I was bestowed with gift of certainty
In it reveled, but also failed to remove the shroud
On shrouded mystery
The Sons of Pharaohs maintained only three steps
That steeply went into more dozens, thousands of themselves
To them the World was truly dark, they turned themselves into the temple
To never shine, no... but to always take...
I do sometimes experience short moments of what could be a dream
Or nightmare, even brightest days devoid of anxious themes
Seemed to grant me visions of eternity, and I don't mind!
I know that secrets are only that -- secrets indeed, secrets they are,
They are to be condensed into themselves and stored at backyard.
Another theme in this unending circus of things
Is not the way we're chosen by the Fatum to perform on maneges
Of darkest nights, but our unwillful compere as if on gallows under marquee
Drives draughts that come and go right above our heads
And letting us, too, feel the cooling breath of ages that complemented to the
osseousness of this tent of home, of our abode.
I am sure to know that we are almost
Discontinued...
It rendered all my dreams intact from bold critique
Completely out of law by which we live
Entirely alone I was bestowed with gift of certainty
In it reveled, but also failed to remove the shroud
On shrouded mystery
The Sons of Pharaohs maintained only three steps
That steeply went into more dozens, thousands of themselves
To them the World was truly dark, they turned themselves into the temple
To never shine, no... but to always take...
I do sometimes experience short moments of what could be a dream
Or nightmare, even brightest days devoid of anxious themes
Seemed to grant me visions of eternity, and I don't mind!
I know that secrets are only that -- secrets indeed, secrets they are,
They are to be condensed into themselves and stored at backyard.
Another theme in this unending circus of things
Is not the way we're chosen by the Fatum to perform on maneges
Of darkest nights, but our unwillful compere as if on gallows under marquee
Drives draughts that come and go right above our heads
And letting us, too, feel the cooling breath of ages that complemented to the
osseousness of this tent of home, of our abode.
I am sure to know that we are almost
Discontinued...
-
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