Everybody is meshing into the constant. Within this regularity is the void that holds fragility between the pearls. Haven't we heard to grasp dear to our treasures. Well, constrict the morals and have a free for all that distances the infinity of truth. Underground is the secrets. Beyond the tender grass, harsh stone and dirt lives the real spectral of heaven. Yes, maybe once I've slipped or if every pebble is turned over twice. Neither impacts the conscious of my current peer group, whom live along borders they'll never cross. Even if I did or didn't care would the touch differ or the stares sink in for longer. Lean on discomfort and whimpers. The sun has the moon and the stars lie clustered. Give in because there isn't one.