I sense weakness in the heart,
everybody appreciates pathos while the spirit is asleep from the start
the beginning of chaos, how can a mind get used to living in boundaries-
propagation, condemnation, intellectually numb, no thought provocative
no prerogative for answers how will you listen to my questions
what is the point of pursuing a goal if it isnt nigh unattainable
a goal that is encoded into a system not unlike programming a machine
yet one worships engineers of regression, taking the bait of faith
a slow metamorphosis which on close prognosis reveals a stale state off late
a disillusioned mind is all it takes to destroy the rusting norms of social acceptance,
the concept of material prosperity cloaks the unrest of the heart
and if the doors of perception are cleansed you'll realize we are all in chains of our own forgery.
like a grand saga of an unsung hero, one attaches self importance to one's impotence
dreams are a dime a dozen, its the execution that releases you my love
live on!
No comments:
Post a Comment