He stands at its sights
Don’t know what the words mean -a glimmer of hope
When all he does is walk on the road of hopelessness
A change of mind but his brain has been washed
They talk about dancing in the rain
The balance of the joys and sorrows of the earth
A total flaw, only exposed in his grin
God shines the sun, but the city is buried under a cloud
The birth of the sophomore era dwellers
Those who walk with their noses high in the air
a world of ghosts- ghost workers, ghost writers, ghost gods and dead ghosts
they feature that God is nigh
but how does He do it in the cubes of the faithless
we live by many-a-words but bury them inside buildings
the beast swallowed us whole
he spit in its belly to constipate it
they ask me to ponder on it while time flies towards my graveyard
if I don’t decipher it, that’s a burden to my seeds
troubled selves in percentage places
20 percent this, 10 percent that, 5 percent, 50 percent
remove the face masks, the wigs and the toupees
unprogramme.
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