Sunday, July 25, 2010

Bastards Of Chance

Thin veneer hides the reality beneath coated surface
Fake fraud fabrication
Blind eyes lidless in the ecstasy of the unknowable
Deceived distorted destroyed
Manufactured scent leads astray the empty searchers
Fake fraud fabrication
Choirs of the host of heaven hypnotize weak ears
Deceived distorted destroyed

What is the world but a speck
What is the universe but a drop
What is life but an eyeblink
What is death but a deep breath

No one holds us in the palm of their hand
We are no creation
No one spoke us out of the nothing
We are in no one's image
No one holds us in the palm of their hand
We are no sons and daughters
No one spoke us out of the nothing
We are but monsters

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