The visible portion of reality
Where we mostly live and die
Turns out to be so small
Compared to what we do not see
The mirage of the sun in the sky
The empty desert of stars
All arranged so movingly
The passing and the permanent
Moments thrown together
So it's hard to know what's meant
But we have a little chance at freedom
Every third night I've noticed
The guards aren't watching
And soon we will escape
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