Escapism is always fleeting
it's the law
Two sides must be competing
and an escape we saw

So we continue to burn
these words inside
Towards a shrine we turn
leaving ashes for others delight

I collect yours, you collect mine
like dust in an urn
As I give it freely it shall be thine
Of each others escapism we may learn

Knowledge is my thirst
so I sip from the ambrosia of books
You, who saw my wisdom first
a heart made of poetry, this is how it looks