The world is a room
Of starboard and trashcans
A bed of darkness
With corridors of shimmering light
The world is a story
Of epics and heroes past
A song of the villain
With tears awash upon their prodigals
This is a tale of a naked life
And a clothed death
Allegory of the crying virgins
And joyous triumphant of catalogue demons
Before the resonant dualities
Stand I, stand we
Like watchman for the watchword
Being from like tomorrow, and pure like the unicorn
