Parallel
Parallel lines running through the sacred peaks.
Oh behold how the tattered bows squeak.
Rain falls harshly in the infinity of space.
Rats race in the rat race.
Tangents rise in the future of sound.
Watch closely....closer still, hope can be found.
We roll the dice day after day.
Drops of mercury fall silently away.
Pictures painted right after creation.
In a flailing mess of degradation.
Parallel lines running through the sacred peaks.
Oh behold how the invisible silence speaks.
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