Life ends as leaves fall. Occam’s razor strikes again.
Can I dance if I have no soul?
If I go under will you find me cold?
And if I travel to distant lands, would you walk beside me and hold my hand?
Blessed realization.
Blessed consternation.
Suffering from aberration.
Sores ignored panic restored.
Consuming the [bad word] of our labors.
We are the aberration