purevolume™

Tool-Schism

Posted March 13, 2006

The poetry that comes from the squaring off between,
And the circling is worth it.
Finding beauty in the dissonance.

There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away.
Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting
I've done the the math enough to know the dangers of a second guessing
Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our communication

cold silence has a tendency to atrophy any sense of compassion(Jesus...)

between supposed lovers
between supposed brothers.

And I know the pieces fit.