The rift between us is thinner than trust, all things taken into a heaven forsaken, follow this logic into my lack of the tragic, shadows of december, years of false magic Constant creatures of hapless habits I stumble on corpses in this sea of senses laughing so loudly as they claw at the fences yet sitting as silent as my darkest defenses Never not known for the sake of alone imagining the faded, my facade, my throne this dance is a distance a chane for a changing the radicals were free and often arranging.