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At night, this mindless army, ranks unbroken by dissent, |
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Is moved into action and their pace does not relent. |
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In step, with great precision, these dancers of the night |
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Advance against the darkness. |
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How implacable their might! |
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Eyes un-dulled by moon, their arms and legs akimbo, |
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They walk and live, hoping soon to surface from this limbo. |
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Their minds, anticipating the dawn of the day, |
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Shall never know what's waiting mere insight away. |
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Too far, too soon. |
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Senses dimmed in semi-sentience, only wheeling through this plane, |
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Only seeing fragmented images prematurely curtailed by the brain, |
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But breathing, living, knowing in some measure at least |
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The soul which roots the matter of both |
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Beauty and the |
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Beast.From what tooth or claw does murder spring, |
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From what flesh and blood does passion? |
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Both cut through the air with the pendulum's swing |
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In deadly but delicate fashion. |
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And every range of feeling is there in the dream |
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And every logic's reeling in the force of the scream |
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The senses sting. |
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And though |
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I may be dreaming and reality stalls |
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I only know the meaning of sight and that's all |
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And that's nothing. |
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The columns of the night advance, |
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Infectiously, their cryptic dance |
|
Gathers converts to the fold - |
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In time the whole raw world |
|
Will pace these same steps on |
|
Into the same bitter end. |
|
Somnolent muster now the dancing dead |
|
Forsake the shelter of their secure beds, |
|
Awaken to a slumber whose depths they dread, |
|
As if the ground they tread |
|
Would give way |
|
Beneath the solemn weight of their conception. |
|
I'd search the hidden corners of all this world, |
|
Make reason of the sensory whorl |
|
If I only had time, |
|
But soon the dream is ended. |
|
Tonight, before you lay down to the sweetness of your sleep |
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Do you question your surrender to the drop from |
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Lover's Leap |
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Or does the anaesthetic darkness take hold on its very own? |
|
Does your body rise in service with not one dissenting groan? |
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These waking dreams of life and death |
|
In the mirror are twisted and buckled, |
|
Lashes flicker, a catch of breath, |
|
Skin whitening at the knuckles. |
|
The army of sleepwalkers shake their limbs and are loose |
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And though |
|
I am a talker, |
|
I can phrase no excuse |
|
Not to rise again. |
|
In the chorus of the nighttime |
|
I belongAnd |
|
I, like you, must dance to that moonlight song |
|
And in the end |
|
I too must pay the cost of this life. |
|
If all is lost none is known |
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And how could we lose what we've never owned? |
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Oh, I'd search out every knowledge that |
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I could find, |
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Unravel all the mysteries of mind, |
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If I only had time, |
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If I only had time, |
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But soon my time is ended. |
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EndedEnded |