Opaque black orbs of a material unfathomed
Of make and origin transcendent,
In city streets, more labyrinths, they’re shining
but the napless, noxious light can’t make them suns.
In a manner of speaking, they’re dead, ...
Let us ask you, Mother, these chosen questions,
Most thought over, most mulled, most complex.
For we are yours, even if we are our own fathers,
And only you can banish the fears
that bother, that torment, that vex ...
I lie awake most nights, in stupor from the fear
That I am not a man, but beast,
An abomination from a dream.
The darkness not obscuring, it makes things clear,
The merest whisper transformed into a scream. ...
I'd rather be the liver of Prometheus
than live in this illusion of deliverance
The more you know, the more you're faced with ignorance
and ignorance defeats you with experience
I'd rather be the wings of Icarus ...