Observation
Oh, lone man,
beholding your own decay,
a mask upon a mask, a borrowed face
chants of Olympus slowly fade away,
a forgotten soul, lost in self-embrace
Oh, to return to the age,
where our fragile forms were admired by gods,
where every burden was borne by all,
not lone scars, nor sorrows left untold,
but rivers merging, healing to make us whole.
"Return to the Divine Primal State"