Isn't it fitting
To have complacency during time of anguish and forlon
Love is void, and empties our mind in which only sin can fill
The lies I can't tolerate nor encourage
And words are useless, they become idioms after a while and create poignant occurrences

Women are so estranged to shades of reality, so strange so strange
Men allude their ugly words and turn the ignorant insane, insane insane
Blinding treasures lure ones to the extinct bliss
Climb into the blue garden and find another kiss
Crippling hope exile souls into melancholy purlieu
Guided by internal illusions awaiting is virtue
Echoes from the abyss dripping is some gloom
On the hour I wish for the prettiest bloom
The path viewed so radiant but the Shepard left too soon
Too soon too soon..