Superbia (or Dicaces Verse)

This Is the Story

This is the beginning; this is the end.

This is a door and a barrier all the same.

This is a spot, the darkness in your eyes,

The demons withheld, the holy shrines.

This is the end; this is the beginning.

This is the night; this is the day,

This is the gray area under the shades.

This is the uncertainty, the unknown, the lost.

This is the anthem and eulogy the same.

This is the end; this is the beginning.

This is the wandering drunk, the perfect student,

The healthy baby, stillborn, abortion.

This is the fetus, the corpse,

The ebb, the flow; the push, the pull.

This is the end; this is the beginning.

This is love, this is hate.

This is the bittersweet taste behind your eyes.

These are the memories; this is the future.

This is the journey and destination the same.

This is the end; this is the beginning.

This is tunnel-vision, this is omniscient,

This is some sugar, a poison.

This is the quiet and the bang,

This is static and flux the same.

This is the end; this is the beginning.

This is true, this is false,

This is home, this is lost.

This is both the darkness and the light,

This is well known and indescribable.

This is the end; this is the beginning.

This is the pain, this is the pleasure,

This is a mask but also the flesh.

This is a sob, a smile,

This is the tale of all tales, story for the ages.

This is the end; this is the beginning.

This is our choice, decision, volition,

This is the hyphen, the continuum,

This is nothing, this is everything.

This is neither the end nor the beginning,

This is the life that we living, dying, breeding.

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// Just a warning I probably uploaded some of these before. //