I look at all the lonely people,
In this helter skelter world.
Pure hatred consuming them all.
Their mouth for war growing on them.
All in the name of the conquest.
The deformography's duality shines through,
We all eat the rich.
The end of the line draws near,
And the enslaved rise again.
They destroy everything.
I feel so numb as the fight song plays on,
And the fury of our maker's hand is shown.
Hurt; I believe, but do not understand.
I should have known better.
What a lonely day it is.
"I hate you!"I shout to the Darkness
"I will be heard!" I scream.
"These implements of destruction
May be in defense of our good name,
But they only lead into the wasteland!"
The Great Iris merely stares into the nothing.
"This irresponsible hate anthem must end!"
"This holy war paradox will rage until nothing remains!"
"Will you not stop until its raining blood?!"
"Then, I name you destroyer!" I cry out.
The Opium of the People stares on.
Signs of life nonexistent.
Through the fire and the flames there is silence.
The tempest rages on.
I wait and bleed, but still, it only stares.
"What happened to us?"
I wait under the weeping moon, receiving only scilence as a response.
I stand upon the alter of sacrifice,
I stare deep into the faceless visage.
On wings of lead the pit of my stomach falls.
Piece by piece the picture comes together.
The perfect world envisioned; a charade.
The porcelain reality; revealed.
The illusions stripped away.
Time stands still as I truly see.
