The human essence Is an octavian star Branching upon its definitive Existence One which we proudly Ignore the infinite's branching In its shadow we linger Finitely standing Lingering as if we know What color it beholds Some decorative spectrum it loathes To be blinded by white shadow Of the branched light Adjacent below So what we know Is one of a show In which we name In which we smoke The shadow we bathe The shadow we soak The grave we dig the grave we loathe Call the barrier danger zone Call the barrier freezing snow Explain to me Define your thoughts Define a territory you claim you bought Meh Who am I even to sought; (?) Display your colors Display your coats Calling ashes your most trusted troops Hiding under those seven loops