And the blackness never dies,
When light is alive,
And good can’t survive,
Without evil by its side.

And stars only shine,
From our past long ago,
And the moon is a lie,
Just a reflection of the sun.

And yes, I repeated several times,
For my mind is ruled by one thing,
That we never see what is really going on,
Because we all died mili seconds ago.

And there is a bird’s cage,
Sitting on top of sharp rocks,
And if the bird barely moves it dies,
And in the black of night the bird moves.

And acting is hard,
Words with emotion flow through soft lips,
And yet some,
They are just metal lips.

Hermia and Lysander weren’t meant to be,
If they were Puck wouldn’t have been able,
To sway them so easily,
So they weren’t meant to be.

Magic is easy,
Love never so,
Blackness is impenetrable,
Light not much so.

And the prettiest of flowers,
Grow out of sight,
And the kindest of voices,
Never make a sound.

And so in the blackness,
We all must die,
For in the brightness,
We all just hide.

– Owl


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