Apocalyptic moods
We feel so fucking pointlessThere's no reason left to think
Our mind is such a mess
We have to go and get a drink
With the fishes in the bowl
that's made up of lost deceptions
We sell our soul
To a host of new conceptions
This absence permeating
every part of our lives
Like bees from an endless
field of millions of hives
groping through the darkness
blinded angels as we are
we just found another way
of killing our star
angels abolished
from the paradise we made
now we are blissfully
lost in our hate
we feel so mechanic
we are so bereft of feeling
with no real conception
of the lives we are stealing
the mechanical brain
that's stuck in your chest
continually tells you
which feeling is the best
such compassion inconvenient
for the purpose we have set
we can't allow you to think,
we can't allow you to regret
she is so beautiful,
with maggots in her hair
those black holes in her face
continuing to glare
to stare at the black hole
where their souls used to be
there's nothing left there,
there's no one left to free
Degenerated souls
Ever burning with hate
Carving new and empty holes
Even though it is their fate
Irrationally beautiful, this song that she sings
Tormenting their souls as she spreads her blackened wings
Poetry by Lalando
Read 653 times
Written on 2007-10-06 at 02:37
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