If truly all of this is bliss
Then age and time must not exist
For somewhere in the shadows gleaming
A streak of mono-glory reaming​​​​​
A perfect cone

If all the pain that we endure
Is for rendering our spirits pure
And all the colors that we see
Is but the struggling to be we
If from the one we came and one we went
Then surely one we go​​​​​​​​