We're coming up to the junction now,
Without a function of how fondness relates to freight.
I'm dragging two fingers to keep my weight down
While I'm going up to make sure all the doors are flush.
No, we don't want them to see what we've been hiding
Whose vibrations arouse a most precise collision,
That annihilate in silence with defiance, god-given.
A temporal temperance meets a deviation
Pushing clocks against a rail hurling steel at him.
Two fighting siblings and a mediator, respectively:
Optimism, Pessimism, and Realism.