Along the wayward, unsung heroes
We, again, crash on crystal life
full of gray sand
gray sand
tool.
From where we started
we come back
to the everlasting
pun and twists of
living the ironies of
death and resurrection.
Where the gray sand
is the priest, and black and white
do not meet or
nothing at all.
Go under your bed
and under your bed
is an invisible truth
That is--you.
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