The nature of man is: sing.
Of petals charred, of fire ceased;
Of curtains opened, of lies ending peace.
Your (once) best man your (now: ex)wife's cheat
Those cries of deceit following kissing of feet.

So go! pen the symbols, the patterns of man,
Into strings for the dead, for blankets to cry,
Into lines for the living, for the living will lie.
And write, give no end, no relieving long breath,
To singers of words 'til conclusion you've met.

Stories branch out to the tip of my leaf,
Of dark blood drawn for the liberties lost,
For one deemed valuable of the fires he's crossed.
And of I, shoulders shaking, passing you on my way
As your gate closes: ends the lyric of today.