On mountains of sin and ignorance,
men build castles.
Who are we to say they are wrong?


That's the chance we take with destiny.
We trust the children of destroyers to be creators,
just like we were once.


Like the clown in a conversation,
despite being the ultimate designers,
we always end up on the outside.


Why do you have tears in your eyes, young immortal?
If you are excluded from humanity,
what does that make you?


A visage in human form, a talking shadow.
An amorphous, shapeshifting being,
you can be a part of any kind of creation.


Don't you see? By freeing you to go,
to the empty places
- they made you one of us.