EVEN IF WE TRY

Even if we try,

the moon still falls beneath the sun,

the one that gives it light and breath

and turns us into one.

Even if we try,

the moon will rise through the veil,

the magician of the night

turning the tide and adjusting our sails.

Even if we try,

the gravel road will still turn to mud,

the brigade of horses will halt,

digging in their reigns ’til they draw their own blood.

Even if we try,

the sleepwalkers will walk along the muddy abyss,

the brigade will finish its last stance

and disappear into its mist.

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