i only dream of the past
the moments of indiscretion
i grasp at the illusions
pocketing wisps of smoke

i pray for nothing i have
lost faith in good faith
although rationality is just
as bad just as artificial

i hope that every little
thing is gonna be alright
but every little thing is
is just one massive thing

i wish to maintain the
frenetic the hot ears and
head the constant movement
that synthesizes purpose

i want to embrace death
hold it close and quiet have
it whisper in my head as i am
gently ripped from the fabric