God is his best creation,
A delusion so sublime,
It's comfort in pain,
Deemed as a symphony of insane.

I'll pour my bitterness in a presentable glass
To drink it again
Adjourned of hope fullness
As to saviour the taste of my destruction without impurity

She harpens the mute,
Which makes them sing their soul,
For within her poetry they find,
Their relentless souls,
Their relentless sorrows,
A whim of time induced fate,
To betray her,
For her to sow to no reap,
Within her bounteous heart such injustice couldn't seep,
So now she spills the nectar of her being,
She spill words of poetry,
She spill tears.

In my shackles I run free,
Miles and miles on the path of divinity.

In ill wit I find this life unfit,
Bequest of melancholy I admire,
For all left of us is dire,
A folks tale we learn to admire,
Akin to the play that plays in my mind,
Even with me as my possession,With my soul I hold no rhyme
Thus,
as realities prisoner I do not wish to retire,
The earth retraces it's history in satire,
Gods creativity I admire,
But confined to this rugged terrain I contrive,
An illness has warmed me and now in its grasp I lie,
An illness to betray that of which I find noble,
So now I grieve a lesson I don't want to learn.

I can't take this anymore
I can't take this anymore
I can't take this anymore
Gaza  is bleeding and bleeding and bleeding
Gaza is bleeding and bleeding and bleeding
Gaza is bleeding and bleeding and
bleeding
When will they end the occupation
Gaza is bleeding and bleeding and bleeding
I can't take this anymore
Gaza is bleeding and bleeding and bleeding

Sow and sow to what reap?
The bounteousness of this world I can't keep,
The sky, the sun a fading promise,
Should I destroy myself or chant gods name?
But who will carry me out when I go insane,
For god shall disappear amidst my bane,
Who's rein will keep me sane?,
I can't devote myself to anything,
I can't be worshiped nor can worship,
Shall I let the famished night slip away my soul,
Must i dive that deeply in my own betrayal,
To have my reflection claim me blind,
Why must I dwell in this world claim it as my residence?,
For I wish so sublimely,
To not have a say,
To not be perceived nor noticed,
To be a satire way.