A circle and a square Emblematic figure of man Infinite number of dots And straight lines printed On the ancient canvas that's Around us infinite universe We are the Perfection We are the Fallen Why are we so divine Of flesh bones and blood Being so fragile Able of doing good It's way much easier To do evil The portrait The figure A prison that we build The mind The soul In a constant war Our forms are designed To contain the pure essence Something that we do not Want to see or believe ever Too blind to see the truth And too arrogant in its acceptance Why are we so divine Of flesh bones and blood Being so fragile Able of doing good It's way much easier To do evil The portrait The figure A prison that we build The mind The soul In a constant war Maybe The answer Lies in Front of us All A dualism That the gods Envy us Why are we so divine Of flesh bones and blood Being so fragile Able of doing good It's way much easier To do evil The portrait The figure A prison that we build The mind The soul In a constant war