Shed your skin of touch
Note not the echoes in thy ear
Tongue the empty atmosphere
At a remove All is gone
Allow the foundations to crumble
As summer shunned leaves from the tree
Expose the wood naked and humble
At a glance
All is chance
Our Passion but debris
Seeking the holy dustbin
All at once
All is double and thrice
We must yet fight chaos
And I still prefer rooster sauce with my rice
