(no subject)
The dreams you make illogical,
Your judgments each unfair,
We write ourselves as prodigal,
Make friends with whom we dare.
The facts are not laid out of late,
Our merits hold no truth,
The lies we tell the mirror today,
Will not survive our youth.
These golden weaves of futures leave,
Our present neatly staked,
The off-chime of tranquility,
Leave us no hearts to break.
The laws all set and limits held,
Each born through grim design,
Serve only to imprison us,
Illusion and resign.
Rethink your plans,
Release spun plots,
Debate the fate of each,
For boredom broad,
And madness bared,
Are only cured by breach.
Your judgments each unfair,
We write ourselves as prodigal,
Make friends with whom we dare.
The facts are not laid out of late,
Our merits hold no truth,
The lies we tell the mirror today,
Will not survive our youth.
These golden weaves of futures leave,
Our present neatly staked,
The off-chime of tranquility,
Leave us no hearts to break.
The laws all set and limits held,
Each born through grim design,
Serve only to imprison us,
Illusion and resign.
Rethink your plans,
Release spun plots,
Debate the fate of each,
For boredom broad,
And madness bared,
Are only cured by breach.