destilled in the vengeful tree,  we sit us three, devotees to a cause that is not real, gimmicks laid forth, masks worn and torn, a memory, a lost translation of a memory, rekindling of a burden, infused,  refused, was it important to forget, or insulting that we had never remembered until now? A crack through which the world can see, what we become with out its call of sanity, for in the madness, only tears are cried for hope..