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Loneliness is the name we gain
Abandoned in attics of despaired shame
We might not know who our maker is
Nor even how we're birthed without a single kiss

Sailing shore to shore of no causing way
We fly, we glide, we slip away

Each day is our rite without rights
Pondered those colors from black to white
And out our interluding charades
Oh, how we are judge by senseless mocking jays

Enraptured by our capacities we can engage
Still we leered showing a zealous face

From dust, A man was oddly fabricated
A tapestry of wonders to show its vivacity
He's so different from our Avant name
And has a thought that could seize a luring day

But if he never saw how wide the narrow he'd take
From dust a man shall die ever the same