| I will present you with this fornication
|
| Something in space time is logically ill
|
| What can be seen in the rear view mirror
|
| Expectancy was a Mephisto’s gasp
|
| Your past was never quite there
|
| There was nothing that loose in the
|
| Constituents of your substance
|
| It does indeed exist in parts of your
|
| Neural commitments to the mind body
|
| Or does evil exist?
|
| There was always something paranoid in the
|
| Ways she behaved in your guilt
|
| Conclusions are never to be trusted
|
| You are not dead
|
| You never existed
|
| You are not dead
|
| Her devotees were never that pure
|
| Pure existence was never arbitrary
|
| Not in my convictions of the truth
|
| She gave the demon seeds life
|
| The necessity of the game given
|
| Displayed a virtue unseen in you
|
| There is gang grene in the tubes
|
| Of the vermicular ethics of how
|
| Your world view presents itself
|
| Contradictions in terms of how
|
| Your life evolves in the chain of being
|
| I claim you were never a part of reality
|
| This is where your life lie grows pale
|
| Never known to your mirror self
|
| She was a creature alive in you
|
| But I put my hand through the
|
| Object of her desire inside your iris
|
| And she ran down my fingers
|
| Like the sand in the desert of your mind
|
| Hell was never an option for you
|
| Luciferian tolerance yields the given
|
| Your dissolving truth tables
|
| You are not dead
|
| You never existed
|
| The sum of all you ever knew
|
| Equals zero
|
| You are not dead
|
| You never existed |