Rebels root for fortitude in jest
The kind that sorrowful mermaids hold too tightly
Where all the tick-tocks hold patience place
Crossing over bridges of perpetual reiteration
There is nothing to see in brightly lit halls
Though, darkness creeps in all spaces
Waves knock boards like greenhorns knees
Forever giving an ocean to the sea
Something lost in a dream never dreamt
Waking only to remember that you forget
Jesters never placed in flocking meadows, but
Where maniacal mentalities reign in the shadows
Time is laced with life yet waiting for the count
Where we may yet feel the heat of a flame
As this broken boat sails the freest sea
On the passages northwest of insanity