Magenta: "That's my cell block."
The possum: "Something's not right...
It is to be here, under where we stand,
Around it should the Earth surround
To guard its purity.
But what am I seeing?"
-- "That monoliths -- recently built are all.
Bleak concretes on low asphalts, ah what philistines!"

All enter underground.

Magenta and the possum digging,
That's only filling them with angst.
The feline: "Let us burn to show 'em lessons!"
But not yet.

White: "It's to be here.
Even if it travel, it relocates here itself,
For this earth is his verity,
Even when the bleak surroundings aren't of his.
And I see standing still, you,
Who went and bore through too much.
That your roots penetrate this earth.

"What trembles, it's the body, from the soul.
We often miss the soul is indeterminable
The moving core. Our bodies only limit.
Eyes capture not one's soul...
The soul embraces with the body,
Of his or one the only lover's,
And thence the body gets the meaning,
So too are his extended body, art.

"But your lost body, it beheld your soul,
And feared.
For to expand is soul...
Without a limit.

"Now come, and hug me.
The world for you awaits us."
-- "With he who fills my soul to be eternal.
I want to share my heart with him."
-- "Sure thing, you..."
-- "Ah, all I wanted is the softness and the love!
With my love, I want none."
So they embrace the given,
But Inner Heart, she was not won.
So pierced are the embracers.