In my deepest dreams, I have seen a fault line,
the widest canyon, a great divide.
It bears not a thing that ventures between,
and holds nothing inside,
and separates the sea from the sky.

I scale down the walls and find the void waits for me.
It asks for my name and echoes in a song.
Says, “There’s nothing I see that’s not just a thing you believe in!
And if you’re what you believe,
then what will you be if you’re wrong?

“Because Truth is not just a thing not a lie,
it’s the nature of all the things I divide.
But look how the canyon closes in!
All this will be redefined.
It won’t be long—
as I grow thin, the pull grows strong—
till worlds kiss like twisted lips
in the final expression of love.”

I woke on the shore of an ocean before a city made of stone,
and I realize as I rub the sand from my eyes that I am alone.
There’s a folded white note in the pocket of my coat,
and all it says is my name,
and I rack my brain for more of the same, but nothing remains …

And I can feel the ground move beneath my feet!
Feel it scrape and slide, sink and rise, and whisper to me:
“You don’t belong! Boy, you are weak, and I am strong.
Fate is a lie, but you best believe I’m alive,
and you’re coming with me!”

If I step outside as the acid rain
burns the cities our atmosphere couldn’t contain,
will I finally see you relent,
or just converging continents?
Because Truth is a master you learn to despise,
and you learn how to fear when she looks in your eyes,
and says “Who will you be when I rip out the wires?
Because everyone is either a fool or a liar!”
The stars could collide;
I’d still perceive them as a pale, dim light,
but you’ll finally know what it’s like
to live on the other side
of the Great Divide.