The role of an artist is not to look away
I see people and their nature change, but, they're all the same
Man is a genius when he is dreaming of shelter from the rain
Some of these men have ambition, as well as intelligence
That gives them wings, and I cannot afford to hate anyone
As long they don't avert their eyes in silent judgment
We are what we do, then, by that logic excellence is something of a habit
But, what we wetlanders must do, is never hide the inner moonlight
Because that's where madness pops in blue limelight of ****** footprints
Snowy mountains and black white reels of cinematography pile up into digital from analogical death
Rebirth in the Phoenician death of epistemological numinous ashes
Spirited away by the talent of many, and ambition of too few