Move and feel the energy fading constantly br Until you lose all hope, br Collapsing to the ground, br Like it would mean something, br Longing for inhabitants to notice, br How pointless enterprise can be br br Now we meet again, br Engaging in inane dialogues of honor and antipathy, br Draining every last breath, br Hoping to grasp a purpose, br Realizing how resentful life would be br When motion was eliminated for you and me br br Energy is beginning to fade, br Temperature is dropping there is no end br Our bodies are refusing to move br And we have less desire to live br br Memory, br Canvas, br Dance Floor Revolution br br Do we finally realize a purpose in this bitter rebirth? br Or how dreadful a canvas lacking activity is?br br Aiden Florencebr br