Old Fathers Pause

A ship of souls lost concealing an ocean. in space between thoughts the speed of slow motion. please hear the sound of the visibly shaken. a thief wears the crown the builder is breaking. just a handful of souls of windows and walls. in the shimmering hour of old father's pause. while guardians of being are too busy sleeping. a listening tree seems the last willow weeping. we are the terrorist and the laughing child. it's our mirrored bliss but, your crafty smile. as my skeleton moans he must sell his skin. and paint all his bones with some charlatan. mind over matter? well i think not! if there's something the matter with the one I've got. but, i choose to believe my spirit transcends. it's too hard to conceive this is where it ends.