Here's the darkness on the wish you're standing. Cloaked as light with starving walruses and scales of fishes talking in unnetteable decibels
There's there a sinkhole taped by bathed hands that supervise the ports and turn the wheels punching the workbench lifting heavy metals
Here's here the breeding platform shielded by plated walls and spinning blades which dissolve and elute sensations
There's there a whirling waltz over a lighthouse where we shall eat reconciling our hate for surviving puddling forward the clear stream
