How much we can still resist Before the absurd devour us? Maybe we can still run dragging our coffins Pretending to not know they carry our sins How many times has the lie been banalized In the service of comfort? How many tears have you ever caused As a consequence of your words? Was just me who didn't hear The imminent trumpets being blown? Maybe we can still cry for the dying places we look Carved by the consciousness that took Was this the eternal we wanted? Should we be feeling blessed? And so you run and run in agony As far as I can not see Would give a beautiful photography But it's time to surrender, Dorothy