Morphing Worlds, Changing Winds, Light and Dark alternating for eternity.
Burning suns, drowning moons. Some little creatures fighting for their liberty
Evolved to perfection and attention We Stride with pride through our decadence march
Ignorant are we of the presence of a few observers watch
Way up on the branch of sacred trees, pairs of lone eyes overseeing the living,
The scene thru' the invisible curtain, Thru' it the monkey is watching
Like the vanquished on their knees or like kings on their horses
Devoid, of any hope, all shall end in the same corpses
And as the scenes fold unfold under the blanket of a twilight shining
From behind the curtain the monkey is watching.
-Him. From the 2002-2003 Canon
(photo: from somewhere on the net... (can't recall))
