Found To Be Stolen, Stolen To Be Found.
Sometimes, beneath the world is a weird world;
Full of crumbs and crabs, full of bread and beasts.
In this world, the world that lives within Easts,
Norths, Wests, Souths; are just another, staged world.
During spring, sun dances across the sky,
During summer, the dew wandering beneath;
On flowers, on seas, things beneath the sky-
But the first taste is as last of a wreath.
The voyage to the world ebbs, like the breeze,
Of pain, pleasure; pain is... a fact of life,
Pleasure is the side curtain against ease,
Life is made for pain, pain is made for life.
But the smile is a tortoise; subtle, wise;
It comes when pain rules, it rules when pain comes,
Like the rhythmic silent echo; comes
in 's the knotted needles of life; it's rise.
Rising is the power to fall; fallen
is the power to rise. Fall, rise; rise, fall;
Life is a tortoise, it's a file, stolen
to be found, found to be stolen, don't fall!
"words from the innocent mind"