The Inhumane Function of my Human Condition

The Inhumane Function of my Human Condition

our will is broken by the hearts of innocence you raped
by the hands of this bodily image that you have shaped
you've created a masterpiece, a beautiful monster incarnate
an intricate design birthed into failure and formed by hate

i'm starting to become wretched and uninvolved
inhumane functions of the human condition
where the problems are starving to be unresolved
and my heart is breaking to break tradition

these wounds are deeper than your hollow eyes
prince of darkness, tempter, father of the flies
but my soul will mend what you have severed
through the pain of this life that I have endeavored

the sky will fall to it's own dismay
the moon will drown it's sorrow in red
all that's beautiful will die in a beautiful way
but it will still be laid to rest among the dead.