Let no one be themselves. Turn of the century lies. Not within the others. Turn on the wretchful eye. . The blindness ends tonight. Shelter for the shattered.
Insufficient facts make up for a frail foudation. Breeding the obscene for the opinion customized. Is the insight null and substance void upon these wheels.
It's all this reeking ego craves. The sun to never set. Why do threads of anger never linger?. Why does the ember turn to stone?. To where the longing goes.
You are all that matters. In my private demonology. Those who fear us now. The sons of wishes. The bastard child of dream. Enemies of hope. Let it be gone.
The unsaid tone of weak despair fail to resonate. Frayed end of our binding threads will disintegrate. Now by the laws our physique state. Failure to communicate, none to sentient.
It comes from all we're giving. In seemingly endless supply. As signals cross defiantly. Into this volatile mix we charge. . And the stubborn mind repeats.
I grant to you. No privilege of person. No sense of self. A denial of choice. It wants out. So from all the little bits and pieces. A simple case of lost and found.