Untitled - “place your face”
Put faith in yourself in the future by putting faith in yourself in the present
And always honor yourself, the king, by always honoring me, the peasant
Cast your gazes forward and never look at nothing
Take flight, ascend, then fall with grace
Crashing into the earth, it’s gone
You’ve fallen, you are there, you’ve lost your face
But free at last by faith, the future’s come
While you’ve so suddenly gone away without a trace
Now that you’ve made it to your place, you, the king, yawn
Your masterpiece is finished, the last line drawn
Your ego killed, the heart beats on, a drum
A clock unknown to time, sans face — mere seconds left to chase
And the prophet struck dumb
His visions must tick in accordance with nature’s prescribed pace
Seconds going on, bye, an anthem created
To this destiny, every man is fated:
Putting faith in yourself in the future by putting faith in yourself in the present,
And always honoring yourself, the king, by always honoring me, the peasant
Never looking in the mirror, an automatic blindness instated
Automated Oracle: your time is contabescent
Your place is gone, your lips drawn shut
Your words a breach of trust with fraudulent intent
Forever the future goes on undated
Til finally all the morae’s strings have been cut
And tied — voilà, the future known to its greatest extent
In silence we stand; we know not what
Holds for us the future except by faith
So we go on working, backs bent
Our memories, be them a wraith
For each and every day we’ve spent
There was never any fun for me, the peasant
I run, I stop; I fly, I fall; voici the king’s lament:
We know not our fates until our time is done;
May our eternal prayer be that our best work be of yet unbegun
But in our blindness, be there hope; you are your father’s son:
All women, and trans people too
In fealty the king’s, the queen’s fate belongs forevermore to you
Listen to this specter: we are all one
Thus saith Pythia along with her adieu
