Silence won't defend us in the sacred wars of our minds,
Time holds the only key to how we might survive.

A deafening screech won't keep us safe from whatever is under our beds,
stars are the ones who lost their sanity, their minds and their heads.

Oak tree, old and bold,
Green are his leaves,
Brown is his soul.
His mind is wise,
From the beginning of time,
He stood,
He stands,
In His secret society's shrine.

A river that runs red,
A blood clot causes death,
The wind cries,
Time flies,
Then slows down
And passes by.

Dreams were not made for this,
Nothing was.