Soaring on the wings of fate,
I am relinquished to this world.
Stepping slightly, ever so quietly,
So as not to disturb the rift of reality.
As I am drifting on the silver lining
Of this macabre cloud of somberness,
Time seems to shatter; I simply watch
As hands meet. Glass rain whispers like a razor.
It is on the precipice of destiny I stand,
As a symbol of self-acknowledgment;
For no day, nor no man can stand before me
To deny my passage to enlightenment.
I am relinquished to this world,
As I am drifting on the silver lining
It is on the precipice of destiny I stand,
As a symbol of this macabre rift of reality-
