it's too late sitting here on the brink. once again I've run out of ink. pushed the pencil further than the pen could carry the line. Stuck here now out of and outside of time. Forever repeating never the same. infinite echoes bounce against the path. looking infinitely forward into the past. No matter how far you burn, no matter how hard you turn. You're forever changing, forever observed. Living a life performed is living a life conformed. Adopt no ideology but your own. Forgive yourself your past and allow yourself your path Stepping back from the brink, refilled my ink Ready to move on into the future once more Dragging lines across the sands of time forever in the moment not yet past, a million revivals and always more trials It's the story of the elephant and the rope, they think it's a chain but it's really just a joke. If you're ever burdened by reality, break the yoke.
