Content builds worry, as connection builds fury. To contrive the spinal cord that integrates lust and your technicolor heart. Let us salt our wounds, as it stunts our growth. Secret architechure, your womb as a labryinth. For I am unsure of what sets apart knowledge and wonder. To educate the unwilling, taking part in living. Death breathes glory, Time tells us a story. Like whispers throughout the cracks in the asphalt. Dont blame me for its existance. Its not my fault.