happy!

Through trianglar waves, in bottles sinking left-wards.
The postman, ever late, delivers the news.
In golden words, the bells ring out.
Through begging signals, the question is asked.

Not before, nor after the domainince of red,
Comes not a blue clam, or green will,
But a message to live for impluse,
A bright yellow flashs on the misray of dispair.

Making a glow only visable to those without reason,
A glow with such strength as to tear down walls,
Bring everything together, like the falling of dominos.
Unite that which is now broken.

Only then will the bird sing mozart,
Only then will the fallen rise,
Only then will the sun become bright once more,
Only then will we be plunged out of darkness.

A darkness so blinding, only a equally blinding flash can save us,
In this cold room full of fire, are we to sit and think nothing of the passers by?
What of the missing painting, or the falling buildings?
What are these to the blinded eye?

Lost in a web of true lies, lies the folding chair
Away from the clouds of the just, and the clear sky of the hopful
Remembering all those times left standing, is enough to make the fallen fall further
Holding nothing but a skick in the mist, the world turns it's startled head

In each a jumping chance, in each a forward glance
Looking for the carefully carefree, much like the masses on a tangent
Finding a way out, is like finding a dead trout
So look not for the spiders callings, but for the glowing eggs on the strings that weave the very web in which you stand.