the commoner's creed

however everyday you hang by the thread for things remain to be when they are and you can only be when they become wit everyday that comes so while dirt hast just settled the hole and the sower looks on wit smiling hopes of a gathering you must befriend the mud that clothe you, fire peasant, you owe it to the sower that you was planted, to bloom in yaw spot and spring where you was buried here are the moments through seasons never changing for now we live in the eyes of the eagle yet we will see each other face to face and face to face it shall remain, a commoner is a commoner, he is one wit the rest, anyone who separates is a stranger and thus will be treated as one, burn easy, pyro, you are foolish to lift both feet away from solid ground to stand on air you float empty while the world strides on solid ground what measurable woeth is there to count when you fail to bleed never bother to remember you are an object of temporary use, remember, you dork, you was borne of the dust, yaw face moulded in mud!