Under Your Skin The Moon Is Alive.

And One By One The Nights Between Our Separated Cities Are Joined To The Night That Unites Us.

The Word Was Born In The Blood, Grew In The Dark Body, Beating, And Took Flight Through The Lips And The Mouth. Farther Away And Nearer Still, Still It Came From Dead Fathers And From Wondering Races, From Lands Which Had Turned To Stone, Lands Weary Of Their Poor Tribes, For When Grief Took To The Roads The People Set Out And Arrived And Married New Land And Water To Grow Their Words Again. And So This Is The Inheritance; This Is The Wavelength Which Connects Us With Dead Men And The Dawning Of New Beings Not Yet Come To Light.

Under Your Skin The Moon Is Alive.

I Think It Was Very Informative, But A Lot Still Needs To Be Done.

Will Our Life Not Be A Tunnel Between Two Vague Clarities? Or Will It Not Be A Clarity Between Two Dark Triangles?