Infinity, the obvious to existence,
Aeons beyond it goes on
Passes us in bottomless oceans
Where sleeps the one to awaken...
Beneath endless streams of ideas,
Goes on without a thought
Beneath endless dreams, without a life to lose
Not all may fit into a lifetime,
Yet more than one to a dying moment
The memory fades, and the old,
Be reborn!
In a chasm, of solid stone,
The echoes breach silences' walls
Devouring deep below the solid,
Time yet come to awaken
A premonition of coming days
Ominous, dreary dreams of extinction
A lonely echo cried:
"It is the power, the power behind a name
The mind's shadow that blocks out even the brightest light"
If a dream is a shadow
The idea, a fragment of the fact
If the truth is solid, we are the rupture
Not all may fit into a lifetime
Yet more than one to a dying moment,
The memory fades, and the old,
Be reformed!
The light always casts a shadow,
In darkness it controls
In ways man can't comprehend,
This world unfolds
A premonition of coming days...
The silence for us it provides
The surreality hides us within
In darkness we're disguised
And found within we are again