A road with grass on either side,
It's over grown, and there to hide
The filthy dirt trapped underneath,
The bugs and plants who fail to reach
The asphalt trail, a path to Sin.
The road that I shall ride again.
A road with trees on every side,
A tunnel of leafs, a shadowy slide.
Roaring down the twists and turns,
Souls rush forward, yearning to burn.
In buckled seats, a group of kids.
Ready to do it all again.
A head with ears on either side,
Who knows what mysteries lay inside.
**** and ****** greed and lust.
With all these thoughts they're just a husk
Of things they want, and things they feel.
Dragged into the world beneath their heels.
A store with things down every isle
We force a twisted, fake-ed smile
And buy and buy and buy and buy
Never looking into why
We buy and sell ourselves so much,
From our hearts and souls we're out of touch
An inch within our heart resides,
A single inch, or else we die.
It's all we have, and all we are,
Yet not as valuable as an inch of yard.
We **** ourselves too soon for too little,
Life is just one stupid riddle.
A meaning or purpose you'll not find
Even with infinite amounts of time,
For there is none, and there it is
The meaning that no God will give.
In absence of truth, a new truth is made,
The very shovel that will dig our graves.
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 12:06 PM UTC
A road with grass on either side,
It's over grown, and there to hide
The filthy dirt trapped underneath,
The bugs and plants who fail to reach
The asphalt trail, a path to Sin.
The road that I shall ride again.
A road with trees on every side,
A tunnel of leafs, a shadowy slide.
Roaring down the twists and turns,
Souls rush forward, yearning to burn.
In buckled seats, a group of kids.
Ready to do it all again.
A head with ears on either side,
Who knows what mysteries lay inside.
**** and ****** greed and lust.
With all these thoughts they're just a husk
Of things they want, and things they feel.
Dragged into the world beneath their heels.
A store with things down every isle
We force a twisted, fake-ed smile
And buy and buy and buy and buy
Never looking into why
We buy and sell ourselves so much,
From our hearts and souls we're out of touch
An inch within our heart resides,
A single inch, or else we die.
It's all we have, and all we are,
Yet not as valuable as an inch of yard.
We **** ourselves too soon for too little,
Life is just one stupid riddle.
A meaning or purpose you'll not find
Even with infinite amounts of time,
For there is none, and there it is
The meaning that no God will give.
In absence of truth, a new truth is made,
The very shovel that will dig our graves.
My mother said I broke her heart.. but it was my integrity that was important. Is that so selfish? It sells for so little, but it's all we have left in this place. It is the very last inch of us.. But within that inch, we are free.
— V for Vendetta.
