Destine to rule, we rude and ride ourselves
Far away at home we crushed and crumbled ourselves
Like the fire from her mouth we burnt ourselves
Contented not with ourselves, we moved away.
We found ourselves in a fabricated fake field
Forced by brittle, our bitterness is hidden
Like the Cameleon, we are revealed by ourselves
Only to be stringed away by stricken sage.
There is a beginning away from home
Hoped by many minds of the milked
Like the snail off her shell
Away from each other we are nothing.