At night I prepare for sleep in a soft bed br The moonlight beams dance all night br Long on the ground, I dig, a slave br Shackled to my shovel grasped so tight— br In the end I collapsed, dead in my grave. br br br (Never neglect these gifts) br as I feel the illusion of time unfolding— br and swiftly strive to shift and sway br in synchronicity with the rhythmic currents— br still ever gracious br these desires shall subside. br Persevering phases and waves of phases br There, there br Clinging on to self-sacrifice and surrender br Your internal gift shining br Blindingly you will see it. br br Getting closer to apathy than ever before br Baptized in these lies br I despise your wicked cries br And endlessly I flee br Seemingly from sympathy. br br And still, my humble skiff keeps me alive br By never destroying, never weakening. br This is the ultimate ride. br Oh, my chemical hurricane has ravaged br My philosophical oars, my poetic palms, br And each brilliant sunrise, each pallid moonlight br My heart still forces wounded blood br To every burning muscle fiber and back again. br Yet still, I can feel the sea consuming me. br br Whirlwind of sounds br Amorphous and pounding rhythmic br Between my temples, br And consuming the quiet— br (the gentle monotones of my thoughts) br invariably yielding a sweet surfacing subconscious; br In this I produced this.