and when the soul can no longer bear the corruption of this earth and its atrocities is it ready to take its leave to take refuge beyond dark mountains (it begs the question)
Are we all dead Have we passed on Or as half-lives, vagrant in this realm Desensitised, oh absent empathy Ringmasters in the circus of nonchalance
Shall we entertain the demons of derailment and train up master architects of delusion a listless spell over the residents of a stillborn kingdom
Pyrrhonic sentiments aflow in this dissident state Polyplastic generations swamped in nausea Let us raise our glasses over fountains of crimson! (without scanning our minds for decay)
Howling overhead, the winds carrying voices in torment, between celestial gales Empty lungs bleeding funeral oratory to a stillborn kingdom
Conveniently blinded, in the path of ruin Subconsciously craving disease Without escape, without release
(conscientiousness has disappeared into the dusk)
the sun mocks us with carcinogenic rays the clouds are spitting back to us, the tears of suffering We; schismatic parasites, creating more divisions Incessant drones ensnared in labyrinths
Traversing through the sordid veils of disenchantment Cackling in a phantasmic mirror-maze Spilling the lifeblood of goodwill Into empty coffins.