Folklore, a woven tale
spun in reverse
to see an end written, stitched into a picture
simply put, we all live with what we did or didn't do
now this place, blindfolded and spinning you 'round
then splitting
two worlds as a whirling top
one far away filled with good
one far away filled with evil
wonder where you sleep these days?
all these slippery silvery memories...
frozen guilt evaporating while time faithfully dies
refusing to sink
you still pretend to swim with pockets full of change
waging a war screaming
not drowning
escaped the buildings
destroyed the 7th secret
6 more for the number
left for those who are lost.
XIII
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