Schism, Tool.
I know the pieces fit ‘cause I watched them fall away, Mildewed and smoldering, fundamental differing. Pure intention juxtaposed will set two lovers souls in motion, Disintegrating as it goes, testing our communication. The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so, We cannot seem to reach an end, crippling our communication..
I know the pieces fit 'cause I watched them tumble down. No fault, none to blame, it doesn’t mean I don’t desire, To point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over, To bring the pieces back together, rediscover communication..
The poetry that comes from the squaring off between, And the circling is worth it, finding beauty in the dissonance..
There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away, Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting. I’ve done the math enough to know the dangers of our second guessing, Doomed to crumble unless we grow and strengthen our communication..
Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy any sense of compassion Between supposed lovers, between supposed brothers..
And I know the pieces fit.
