Amidst the confusion and crowd, that go about their routine of life,
forgetting the purpose of their dedication to this monotonous practice,
earning more than sufficient bags of rice to feed and be fed.
Ignoring the air as it turns through seasons,
avoiding the rain with a shield of synthetic that they feel protects them,
and hiding in their industrial caves,
from the eyes of the waking morn, to the night wishes of the setting sun.
The experienced retiring to their visit to the spirits,
while the natural light brightens the other half,
and the million lights in the black background arrive to fulfill their shift.
Crawlers and men who work the night come out to play their part this time,
while we ignore natures course the crawlers creek to call us outside.
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