We are not the images we see. . I refuse to. follow the fashion to its end. hypocrisy. is killing me. on the rights of your wealth. I disagree. this puppets culture scars our tongues.
Lingering in darkness, wading through my fears. My hands still bound together. Why can't we just exist, in a world so pretentious. Bleak horizons bleed disdain.
Mankind's past has shown our origins in death. Born from the ash of life; Born from nothing left. . Incinerator / Decimator. The end has come once again.
Start the needle up again as I crawl to the chair. Anticipate the pain. Feel the charge in the air, sick fascination. Can't wash away this alteration.