And the sorrowful tears of lose and death
Is a record of our true evil, the darkness we indulge in every day
We liken ourselves to the angels of a desert text, but we are nothing more than animals without impulse
We are simply chemicals of hedonism, and we are blissfully drugged by our own egostistical denial
There is a darkness that permeates through our humanity, and those that try to hide it, enable it even more
There is light in this world, these are not the words of a cynic, only the words of someone tired of hate

There is no true recourse for the evil deeds done in this life
We have conditioned ourselves to block out the dark
And only show that there is light
And while that may help you in your self
It desecrates the pain that is given to those
That are vicitms of this terrible darkness
Our ribcages are sown shut to the truth
Our hearts only beat to the drums of our pleasure
I am no different than what I say, I am me
My exhaustion has reached a peak though, and I can’t seem to stomach much anymore

Another bible must be written
Not one of stories and metaphors
No judgment of hell, or a fear of total control, from something above
But of love for one another, for the light that is in our souls
Of the waters that give us life, were we may all bathe our hearts in community and docility
We are of the same cloth, we are only separated by opinion and hate
This is an action we must undertake if we want to survive
No more of the desert stories, no more of our dark indulgences
We must look to a brighter future, we must make it a brighter future
We must create our path not with bone and blood, but of grass and orchids