With sheeps there are light, with sheeps there are dark,
some are just black sheep, to the core of their spark.
For better or worse, in the plainest of words,
there's just two directions in every world.

We have inward and outward, and a blend thereof,
when we get it just right, it's something called love.
The good kind where you know you can go,
the place where they have to take you... because it's home

Some of us do and some of us don't, and some of us never know why...

... at the end of it all in the seasons of time,
when all that you've sought is still ripe on the vine;

some of us do and none of us won't
a few of us know, while most are not told.

When the answers come just a day too late,
it's not quite so easy to appreciate,
that each us grew to teach it anew,
as the parent so too the child also grew.

And so here we stand a divided nation,
wrapped in the thrall of corporatization.
If blood's thick as water, or more in support of,
the bonds of your birth and all that they're worth,
then each day must carry astride its fine dander
all that your egos demand that you pamper.

Spoil your child in belief of tomorrow
glazing past warts of monstrous sorrow.
We can only look inward or outward at once,
if you shall get it right, then eschew happenstance.

The key is not golden nor glistened to ash,
and yet more value's found underneath its mask
of must and mold through æons of time,
handed down one by one by folks of good tide.

Happier ever after is the moment and key
Carpe diem tomorrow, carpe memomentum right here.
This is the moment containing that key
emboldened with lifetimes of guarantee.
Look north and south, search in and and out.

Inward and outward are the only two,
choose with care, children of truth.
Your key is right there in the palm of your hand.
attributing greatness to all in the land
who turn the key outward and see at last,
that no one's alone behind that mask.


Everything human, and all that's divine
are what we see in your face this time.