This magic theater echos spider and dust

Man's desire for fiction

Harsh lights pantomime a freedom

Calm the crowd soften this radience

This wise weaving spell

The immortal words the worlds the wounds

Slide the collection plate my way

Find me pay instead in deed

Our time here is spent as art

Boundaries shut silent as peacocks

We sit with our ghosts and tells

This magic theater moans with its bad back

The nave is crooked the alter impure

For an imperfect play

Calm the crowds sing the sing

And sing the sing

Unzipper their destinies

Destroy their protests

Uppercut words

Silentcat neon unlit

She's a tigress

So bleary bleary

Our time here is spent as art

Silent as peacocks, we are

View enuminous's Full Portfolio