Walk onto the platform , clay till it molds , there it will hold and it will not fold.  will you will it to get cold?  only truth under uncertain lighting. chance,  given no chance .  wasn't it sought under the shade of a tree , like willow , will be , sunshine hides on the outside .  Calm curious creatures can creep conformity .  Custom made to be Taylor ganged . No one skeleton , grabbing the tangible bliss of the force .  'Small kiss of death the angel understood .  To live free is to be recognized by no one , for everyone to see . Clear to me , transferred energy under the shady little tree .  So fulfillment could take me , no where near . yet so close to where I wanted to be , like a dear caught in the headlights of a trucker.  Like clearing the forest so the rabbit could take his watch .  Taking each path the Little girl followed closely to catch & so she did .  On ward she could go, inspired by one word, no.  Soon they were together, faster than them together they spread . Cutting down forest wherever they wept . Shedding forever more light to the floor , for many demons to take it away .  But they would branch out, She would have it no other way.  Having no glory could have kept her away .   Seeking was hindered to a balance, a peek unknown.  But because of her fearless drive, she found herself at the tip.  About to fall & To her dismay , madness is all around .  Keeping her down, on the ground , Childs' play . By any means necessary, It was what she found that gave her a sight for value, somewhere it had been lost all around .  In the moment that it was shared by another, her luck would be smothered .  By the way that they decay, walking dead like soldiers in my bed .  As I flip through my head , churning butter for old bread .  Now in Acoma , shock driven and pacey .  Dreams becomes screens , and morning become Bracey . Get a grip, willed the words .  Coming from my mouth were like theirs, unheard by myself ..  like meaning had lost its place somewhere between time and space .  Dimensions turned them to dementia .  Callings when the spirit world leapt to life . But the living , had no eyes for sight . Like a blind butterfly , day turned to night without a single star in sight .  Again in search , pain and agony , anger driven rage .  Turn the page on my belief .  As if I had to leave it up to chance , and let the fates decide .  So on a whisper I would glide, tilt, till I would guide .  Find the abide , the law was beside .  She grew my heart, that turned from a seed to a tree .  And all that funky little rabbit did, was water my breed .   She is like the pouring rain, waterfall , train.  Loveliness, vain, and most of all sane .  But to discourage not to an advantage .  I lost my rocker , I did not fall off.   Only suspended in my place until  I could finally dime .  Not a spoken word of yours, to trap us every again .