Eight wooden throwing spears
Sitting on thoughts
That bends but never break
Sudden fresh pace
Typical and primal
Remain on the platform
Just a little longer
All this philosophy
Coming out of your ears
Like ringlets
Tossed into the foam
Discovered liar in you
Deeper unable up
Exit the shadowed form
The never loved you
Float the resistant boat
Into the changed whistle
The loyal bond
Of demented harbor
Must each same
Each round goblet
Humble modern dead
Cold and wet
Incoming kick
Silent wasted chime
Crash against
Bleed the reason
The hallowed rent
Of unknown beaming
A little more
And the day comes to a close
A long way down
Victim us all
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