| Who will guard these hills?
|
| Those which are abandoned.
|
| Those which are exhausted.
|
| Everything is collapsing, can you see it?
|
| Awareness will come slow, if at all.
|
| I knew it would come, when everything collapsed.
|
| It is too late to rebuild these walls?
|
| (Because) this self created bliss has destroyed everything true,
|
| When truth was the rise of the first gentian.
|
| They do not know what they seek,
|
| So who could expect such grand repose
|
| When all wisdom ends in nothing,
|
| Who chooses what will be truth?
|
| It feels as though there is a saw resting on these bones,
|
| Behind this flesh
|
| Lies an anaemic frame
|
| Like brittle bones, they snap,
|
| It echoes for days
|
| I regret everything I ever promised,
|
| In this coil, endlessly falling to nothing
|
| As we think, we are all that will exist
|
| Learning now, that this truth, was just denial. |