It’s like a bad trip downward
And spiraled up, gliding on melting wings
It doesn’t last but a lifetime of misery and
misanthropy struggling on.
Lust, triumphant, unholy, malevolence in its purest form.
Lonely, staring at a blank floor
As white as your lie, if you can’t hide it
Mighty is the knowledge of silence
Creating your own reality
Truth in time is nothing more than a loathsome thought.
Creating your own sense of being
Truth in time is nothing more
And soon it will be sought.
Spectrums, Paralyzing! Nonsense!
Don’t be hysterical!
My minds palette, stripped
Away like the very life
I once proclaimed.