What drives us down and makes us dream of places we have never seen? What lifts my hand to the sky and makes me ask why I die? What is this darkness deep inside from which I cannot ever hide? Is my joy but a ploy to keep me here in this place of fear?
This place, this sorrow, this tragic dome – will lead us home – no need to roam. Turn with me deep within, for all that matters is to begin.
Brothers, we who cannot die, laugh and cry for that which lies. Laugh and cry for this fated “I” – the eye that dies, the “I” that dies….