| Lacerating pains of degeneration speed through your trembling mind
|
| Still, in machine-like strife you gain another mile
|
| The temporary elusive goal
|
| To reach the solace, to feed once more upon the synthetic reaper of loss
|
| No matter the outcome, the cost
|
| Cold and stinging needs tearing through the halls
|
| Of your defiled, flesh made temple with its closing walls
|
| Still you claim the worshipers pose and you bow
|
| You kneel
|
| Control, once superior, now a docile pet at chaos’s feet
|
| Pulling the leash as it trails the scent to where all hurt recedes
|
| Your past a blurry patch in mind, your future once, now thin dreams filed
|
| Toward the lights of need you strive to drink into your vein the shine
|
| Beaten to the unforgiving ground
|
| Lashed into submission by the inner starving demon, by its unrelenting hand
|
| Still you claim the worshipers pose and you bow
|
| You kneel to the syringe
|
| Answering only to authorities of sedation
|
| Their calls the only ones heeded
|
| A worn out soldier touched by their contagion
|
| A battered drone at their feet
|
| You’re the one betrayed
|
| An outcast set afire by your inner war
|
| Your burning self so far astray
|
| A combustion fanned from within your core |