from ash to soul and soul to ash,
a continuation of life ever-last;
dancing with hexahedron hierarchy --
eating off epidemic oligarchy --

we've crowned a fool, with saviours in town;
our eyes in wool, 'til we turn around,
with eyes of indigo, soaring free,
an extra sight within the trees...

soon each shape moulds together as one,
like scattered stars at midnight come,
an image emerges from the light,
which unveils such a splendid sight:

the fall of kings, the rise of queens
and all the other fragile things;
love and beauty on the tongue,
swivelled down into the lungs,

knowing not what to become,
the cringe of fear resides in some;
hide inside a box with ***
until the waking morning comes...

it's time to rise: wake up! wake up!
leave your box, dispose of cups;
out of the office, into vast love
of a day which is anew, because --

the dark is done if you wish to banish;
revolution is not so outlandish,
when fish merely roam in schools of thought,
with nothing ever truly taught,

until one day, the shark will come,
and cause you to despise your ***,
your weak hand, and your menace,
for all is well when there is penance,

"for they know not what they do...",
leader to people, as lion to shrew;
abolishing all antiquity
in order to reach sublimity.