The given world
The programmed reality
The planted ideal
Like wrapped up in an oblaat
Nothing but obey the animus
Of artificial god
Unaware of poison concealed
Humans are in rapture
Not knowing what to distrust
Desire for the peace in emptiness,
Now the floating mind
Swerved off the track of time
Unchained from the chain in the space
Soon the voices inside fade away
Hovering in the darkness is all
Making the self with hypocrisy
Once you peel off the skin
Then a lump of endless desire
The wise men without wisdom
Respecting their ostentation
Leaning on the meaningless confidence
The insatiable fool, bathed in instinct
That respect nothing and no remorse
Poison grow poison running the eternal depletion
At the end of ideal in blood
You betray yourself and all you have
In the farther miracles and dreams
What you bloodshot eyes find out for?
