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the tale of the destruction of a man who died with nothing |
A True Dictatorship The architect repeats then modifies his walls His glasses have been taken off but ignorance intrudes his bravery all the same, Impaling ethics in impulsive games Such greed Such lust Create oblivion... Conquer the graphite monster What can bravery do for him now? Return to the child walking through a man's epic tale Feel the break of soothing paralyzation The strings keep him dancing Whom does this puppet entertain?... Contraban infects his only fucked up thought that creates his every thought His books have never contained hope in their print Destroyer of a man is the man himself A secret kept behind his plush skin Running from nothing, his legs keep pushing Rest only in shade, fight only in shade Not a coward, Just a belief in infliction to be craved... The lights go down The hunger is coming, but the food is scarce Falling from the winter clouds six feet from home. The pavement shatters his life, but the machines still live in his mind Dictating is his only regret as he picks the flowers for his bed His final words, his one last breath was a tear pushed out of his eye as he dies in my arms |