Living animals, dead,
wakeful, sleeping,
always you, these.
To each his own god,
unwitting moths thrilled
by deceptions, sad sons
imbibe the usual
moronic tales,
go roaming,
chew the cradle.
Vainly implore
a tomorrow; although tomorrow…
Living animals, dead,
wakeful, sleeping,
always you, these.
To each his own god,
unwitting moths thrilled
by deceptions, sad sons
imbibe the usual
moronic tales,
go roaming,
chew the cradle.
Vainly implore
a tomorrow; although tomorrow…