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"Reality is not always probable, or likely." |
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-Jorge Luis Borges |
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At your doorstep |
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Cloaked in negative space |
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First frost aches |
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To lay its claim |
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At the threshold |
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Between without and within |
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First foot prints |
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Disgrace the virgin soil |
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Ignoring refusal |
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Let the winter in |
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Indian Summer |
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Defiant forever |
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Let winter have its way |
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Through hollow insides |
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Made of branching halls |
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First step falls |
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Vanishing reasons |
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I chose this course |
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Death is in season |
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Inward to source |
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INITIATION |
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Vanishing reasons |
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I chose this course |
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DISINTEGRATION |
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Death is in Season |
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Step inside... |
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One thousand faces |
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Stare back from their fractured origin |
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In turn |
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Turn another corner |
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And lose my place |
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A blue print for disorder |
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The Way of Disarray |
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Backward glare |
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Burnished obsidian walls |
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Reflect the endings |
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That will never... |
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Unfold |
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Fold the corners over |
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To hold my place |
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The panic feels so familiar |
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In a breath-work maze |
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Clear the air |
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Ceremonial smoke rings |
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Fill the creases |
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Where the trauma collects |
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You better keep your thought forms clean |
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How we, the Conjured, seek |
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To breach the compass of this dream |
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Illumination |
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Elimination |
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Tangental slipstreams |
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Derail our train of thought |
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Stationed in fog |
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Composing |
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Decompositions |
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In constant revision |
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Infinite indecision |
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Encaged |
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Within a finite space |
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Help me hide it away |
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Under thin coats of cracking paint |
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Under smothering soundscapes |
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Where every layer I've made |
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Competes for a place |
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Enchanting parlor tricks |
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And slights of hand |
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Made me a god |
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Here in obscurity |
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Confined to making believe |
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So help me wish it away... |
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But how long |
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Yeah, how long |
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Before I'd beg to bring it back into life? |
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To bring it into the blue grey |
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The Grey matters |
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Matters of the Maker |
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Mark and Measure |
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Locus of control |
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Order, theorized |
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Crooked, our belief |
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In the straight line |
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Leave room for failure |
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One fatal mistake |
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That human touch |
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Planning its own obsolescence |
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The scent of senescence |
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Permeates |
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Our vast potential |
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Fated to fade |
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Our monuments |
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Willing its own expiration |
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Ground to powder |
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Chaos, improvised |
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Stolen fire |
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Blessed are the thieves |
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In these end times |
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Distill it down into a single line |
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Meet the demands of the mountainside |
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Compromise is such a loaded word |
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When landslides are singing |
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Hermetic melodies |
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Only we could hear |
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We clutch the chords |
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Forgotten anthems reappear |
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Encoded messages |
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Only we could speak |
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In native tongues |
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Ancient strains have gone to seed |
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Entangled crossroads |
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Only we could see |
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Beyond the fear |
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Our new creation will be gleaned |
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From the wastelands |
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Of the insincere |
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Winged beauty she looms |
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Inside a derelict cocoon |
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Inspiration strikes |
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Under flashing flood lights |
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Winged beauty emerge |
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To search this tortured world for new growth |
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Resurface, Recreate, and Redeem |
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Shades |
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Of night |
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Blossoming |
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Within |
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These Laced |
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Pathways |
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Of Hekate's |
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Garden |
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Retrace |
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Mind streams |
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Following |
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Her lead |
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Wellsprings |
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Whispering |
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The Rites of |
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INITIATION |
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I chose this course |
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DISINTEGRATION |
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Inward to source |
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PREVERBERATIONS |
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Follow the stations |
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Through branching halls |
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ANNIHILATION |
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Fever breaks my fall |
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Dionysus, good heavens |
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You've gone to pieces |
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In search of closure, you went within... |
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Everything and Nothing |
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Clashed |
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In counter movements, |
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Rotating spins- |
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A dream, |
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A dream |
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And nothing more. |
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Chart the startling curves |
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Of your dementia |
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(No way out) |
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Map the staggering depths |
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Of one dimension |
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(No way out) |
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Like clockwork witchcraft |
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One must suffer to pass |
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Suffer to Pass |
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Like clockwork witchcraft |
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My dreams now abandon me |
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Suffer To Pass |
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In time, you'll add my shadow |
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To your overspilling urn |
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And match my every move |
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Step for step, turn for turn |
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Reclaimed by a destiny I revoked |
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A trajectory, resigned |
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Writhing |
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In surrender |
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Storm clouds gather in this altered state |
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Hard-wired |
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To the recklessness of perception |
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Bathed in artificial light |
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Steeped in fabricated time |
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Storm clouds gather in this altered state |
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Ever-spinning, |
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The Great Wheel: |
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Void of progress. |
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Ever-Branching, |
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The Great Work: |
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Grieve the dying |
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Dying art |
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Art of process |
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Tunnel visions |
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Wander without aim |
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Through the Gauntlet. |
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Spirit Guides, |
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Forward Exits- |
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Disembodied nights |
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Shrouded in war paint; |
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Losing mind |
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To behold |
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The Other side |