Polemonium (feat. Frodo)

May I be a thought

risen from my imagination?

As the mean against myself

as a definition?

Evenso knowing, that I am I

and ever will be me?

Breathing the air

my ancestors breathed?

Envision a shape

All you can see is just its scape

A blossom is your ceiling

The mold threat

And its loots is rising up to your head

The scarp up seems defeating

And it grows, it grows, it grows, it grows, it grows

And I climb, I rise, I mount, I soar, I go up

But all the same

I feel pleased and desolate at once

Paddling against my own cercainty

Forcing the bale's larynx down to its feet

Cause I'm standing

On every step in every scion

Within the plant of paradox

Envision a shape

All you can see is just its scape

A blossom is your ceiling

The mold threat

And its loots is rising up to your head

The scarp up seems defeating

And it grows, it grows, it grows, it grows, it grows

And I climb, I rise, I mount, I soar, I go up