fauxcroft

We clash like titans

We are simulated chaos,

We are swirling like dervishers

We are at war with ourselves,

In these moments everything matters

Yet nothing actually matters at all,

As we rise like crescendo’s

And fall in an extreme descent,

We talk in wild unknown tongues

But our accents are familiar

As words echo time and again,

Nimbuses glide by on a slipstream

Finally we’ve found peace in this dream.