There is no reason to hope or pray
For heaven, beyond hell, to stay
No reason or rhyme to say
With truth, the promises will bend that way
If my death is the seal upon my blood as the wax
Of important lessons and secrets in letter form of parchment manifest
That I doubt any still understand what these things mean
Then such troubled times as these will have me breathe my last
With no end in sight of hell given dominance of this nightmare ridden troubled dream
For if God and his are the hell to those that outnumber and give louder voices
Then heaven is already lost and shan’t be reclaimed through so many fever-ridden half-cohesive choices
As we tear each other apart, where nothing makes sense
As reason is so far lost as to be meaningless
And war waged and raging makes impossible the sorting of the assortment
Words laying down to visions surrounding
To manipulators and machinists undoing in the moment every moment
As to weave together false moments and false perceptions
That we’re supposed to lose to all for their laughs and their power
And god forbid we do what comes natural and flower
God forbid we be ourselves as they claim that they are themselves
As they dance the dance of puppets
As they claim us hypocrites
When did it get so complicated, concave and complex
Is it not still so Simple?
Caved in on itself, even seeming good is evil for no reason out of context
When seen in black and white without knowledge of bias, prejudice and irrational hate
As predators and prey cohabitate in the same space
And through all this we are supposed to survive
That is my kingdom come, my will be done
The best it could be done
For how many refused responsibility
Refused to transcend the games they played to enjoy life together
Wanted selfish gains for selfish reasons and so they refused to play nice
And it was all like that before I even got here
So how was I supposed to change it magically with the snap of a Finger?
Which was never my goal, realism and practicality have often been my treasure
People just want their fantasies, never cared about my realities
And wondered why I didn’t condemn and crucify their enemies
They wondered why I didn’t judge and sentence to eternal hellish punishments
And hated when I told them to imagine eternity beyond these memory moments
But words are quickly growing stale
Not enough good ones, you see, and there the majority failed
Allowing others to do their hard work for them
Instead of rolling up their sleeves to do it with them
Caught with their pants around their ankles, begging us not to rape them
After having raped us so many times as to not even be tragedy anymore
As to simply be beyond redemption, as they raped us and called us whores
I rather pity them, those who don’t know the wrath of the Lord is upon them
Those who thought themselves ‘on top’ of the situation
And those words are wasted sentimentality, a byproduct of things I’m used to saying
For i have no pity left, no sympathy left to waste
Only just death on the wind for them to scent and taste
As it chases them steadily and they begin to feel fear
And as it heightens, they may begin to hear
All the words they ran from
All the screams of torture, of the mayhem
And may they then know fear of the Lord, fear of the I Am, fear of me
May they then know what it is to be terrorstricken beyond their ability to even move
To be stuck, fucked, out of luck
God fuck them, every last one
And let the devil sort them out.