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We weave tapestries
Of the tales of our lives
With strands of Father Time's beard;
Monochrome scenes
In shades of silver light
And the darkest shadows
Of the mind at midnight.
 
Tell me a story;
An epic of glory
As we sing and we dance
Through the night
 
Making deals with devils
As we pave the endless way
With good intentions
Trying to sell our souls to gods
Whose needs
Demean our hopes and dreams
With schemes
To hold each soul alone
Under the light of their own morning star.