Mode
The void within speaks of a time
When people lived a life of rhyme
Delayed are those, the kind that think
That they are most significant

No logic, sense or peace of mind
In what they do, defeat they'll find
Delivered from the ideal mode
You shall be if you walk this road

Eternal farms of cultured soil
Wrapped are their heads in hats of foil
For coming now as it has then
A storm become the value ten

A surreal influx of red moons
Adapted from the ancient runes
Sit down, relax and watch the show
For all of this ends tomorrow