In the parting, there's a pattern
A sense of starting in what's to happen
Into focus, out of the picture
Swarm in the locusts sent by the scripture
In the conquest, terms of the treaty
Blind traitor confessed crimes of graffiti
Bland in the woodland, planned by the wood saw
Dyed by your own hand, grand for what you wore
Through your muse you harness light
Through your views you garner sight
Through your fuse you spark a fight
Through your clues?
