What was the start of all this?
When did the cogs of fate begin to turn?
Perhaps it is impossible to grasp that answer now,
From deep within the flow of time...
But, for a certainty, back then,
We loved so many, yet hated so much,
We hurt others and were hurt ourselves...
Yet even then we ran like the wind
Whilst our laughter echoed,
Under cerulean skies...
Insanity leads to chaos
Then to solitude
The fruitless effort of adding
Meaning to what is meaningless
A lone, crimson tear
Falls to the sea...
The echo of the remaining star
Cries out in the infinite vacuum
The least I can do
Is send my distant prayers
Over the wind of time,
Setting sale on dreams...
Wilt thou change this world... Or wilt thou change thyself? Wilt thou live
on with thy mother planet... Or wilt thou turn thy back on the planet and
treat another path?
In order to survive, all living things in this world fight desperately and
devour those they defeat... Must one kill other living things in order to
survive? Must one destroy another world in order to allow one's own world
to continue? The wounded in turn wound and torment those weaker than they
themselves are... There are only the killers and the killed... The sinners
who are judged, and the victims that do the judging. What meaning is there
to such a world?
Wilt thou change this world...
Or wilt thou change thyself?