Tuesday Night Post #2-25 / by DBL

Patient Naysayers,

Lets end the argument.  Lets agree that there is nothing to believe. 
Time is short, well this night is.  All I wish I will do, so I cut this short I’m going to spend the rest in a dance. 

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The Wasi’chu, the Pariah

This keeps falling out my box
Just as you opened up all those sealed tombs
Few to take the blame
Fewer to explain
As I empty my box of the things that don’t belong
I try to reorganize all the things you took from the encoded songs
My vision is only a weak connection with the past
The same one you took so you can last
As I get closer to razing the WhiteBox
Your growth surpasses the one I try to resolve
You and I see the desperate fight
Of the two sides that give the Force to a body upright
You and I see the change
The question is not what to believe or not
Let the adults fight
Forgetting that in truth it ends
In questioning it begins
For you its about the respect and awe that kept us in flight
A choice is yours to spread your wings of copper
It’s my choice to make mine in something I find more proper
As you approach a single moment undefined
It looks like I turn away left alone a path unrefined
Mine is the voice that you tried to forget
A nail looking for the force that could get it set
We know lots has been answered
Past the stage of assessment we are engaged in application
You want war you want a destruction of what came before
Turned away I keep it in
I am myself I dance in myself
Nothings true at this state
Until the end I keep it straight