In a strange gallery, an old man's work takes form Illuminated by a candle, his visions light the dome In a sea of immortals, his soul will be sown As the universe will be pleased to welcome its new son Four species were his prey In the fields of the odds, from the world of unknown Took the blood out of their bodies And had the purest goal, to blend it with his own The alchemist's work is done To procreate without a form And his death had been mourned The creatures are left on their own In the valley near their father's corpse No language they ever learn No answers spoken from the icon Not a word The death of their creator left them mutated A look in their eyes shows the beast inside Alone they would've built, together they destroy And duality begins to possess their minds Soul alike, they will fight until the end of their lives For democracy, hypocrisy, democracy, hypocrisy Demon's creation They're in for war and they set for Vietnam If they don't try to accept others' differences In any situation, they're in for religion, inquisition To live and to kill under new institutions In any way The fact the gifts they received from the sage Are the will to decide of what's wrong or right And the need to understand through individuality But they lean towards destruction Took over creation, became philosophy A narrow-minded eagle that won't expand its horizon One of them created a thought-box To regulate security And to create a limited universe A mentality formed into one's dream Preventing the last war's doll Building fences, suppressing thoughts He trapped the others inside a cage So they could breathe from the same wind But the box held the wind at bay? Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com