Become universal, to exist without passion is to fear our own breath. The beats of our hearts shall open up the stars, and this pretext escapes us in favor of truth. Now drive, until we find we're alive. Eternal reoccurrence has filled us with lies, but the sea, she lies, open if we show her our eyes. Are we usefully true, or just hoping for light? In the wake of death, baptized in reason, let us seek, console, and ignite our treason. Turn the rest, and save yourself. If we have a soul, do you think it has eyes? Do you think it has eyes? They will become timid, and huddle close in fear. As we stand we define creation as we see fit. They will adore as their saviors. They will abhor as creators. Destroyers of once beloved; like we've seen them for centuries. The past will become the present, and the future our grace land. We have made up our minds; we have seen the divine light within. Free at last, and universally true.
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