....if you can still see through blindness

...for what is missed and misunderstood, where your mind blinks and washes away hate down your cheeks in pools of remorse at your feet...

...where eventually after every rain even the unknown mouse it has a name, as do all the rest and the watchers too...

...so hearts may feel wicked and souls go stale with power, the gleam off canine teeth, hour after every wretched hour of racing round the wheels like so, never fully letting go...

...the over-analyzation of gods extraordinary creations down to every last squeak and snip, the ones that don't break through the skin, just tenderly warn but firm like thorns, can be yet madding beyond the screams...

...and those will envy the whimsical shoes on the barest of feet, ones in the light, of the light they can't reach, reflecting it's every hue, the ones that can dance with a heart that is true...

...true is a heart that does not hate, free is a man who recognizes his fate, dead is a mind that has no fear, lost is a soul without friendship near...