Aug 2015
Momento Mori encourages you to paint your own story
Listening to that broken record mind is painful and boring.
Silence the chatter and climb the chakra ladder to yourself for real glory.
"Remember that you have to die" was planted with Latin roots.
If only you could let go of your leaves, you wouldn't torment yourself with monotonous abuse.
It seems we were trained to forget how to breathe.
Switchboard recalibrated to go on autopilot against the breeze.
Instead of asking why, we look to the neon lights for relief.
Out of single file one man screamed with grief, " End the misery pretty please! The doctor says I gotta up the dosage unless I wanna be deceased. Oh master, do I not give you what you claim you need? I have kids to feed with no more means to deplete. You can take my seat, I'll work on my feet forever... **** you for shaping my life - No more, my ties to you I sever. Remember that you are going to die. Yes, even you, the self-proclaimed 'most high'. Go hide when you cry, in that same pit of hell where you forge all your lies. Get ready to fry, unless you face yourself long enough to stop opposing the divine."
Momento Mori, my life I stopped forcing. Spine aligned, no longer contorting. Inhale as I stretch at my own leisure while I jot down my own story. The words come, only in the moment. I read the lines at the time you do, with our collective pages eternally unfolding.
Listening to that broken record mind is painful and boring.
Silence the chatter and climb the chakra ladder to yourself for real glory.
"Remember that you have to die" was planted with Latin roots.
If only you could let go of your leaves, you wouldn't torment yourself with monotonous abuse.
It seems we were trained to forget how to breathe.
Switchboard recalibrated to go on autopilot against the breeze.
Instead of asking why, we look to the neon lights for relief.
Out of single file one man screamed with grief, " End the misery pretty please! The doctor says I gotta up the dosage unless I wanna be deceased. Oh master, do I not give you what you claim you need? I have kids to feed with no more means to deplete. You can take my seat, I'll work on my feet forever... **** you for shaping my life - No more, my ties to you I sever. Remember that you are going to die. Yes, even you, the self-proclaimed 'most high'. Go hide when you cry, in that same pit of hell where you forge all your lies. Get ready to fry, unless you face yourself long enough to stop opposing the divine."
Momento Mori, my life I stopped forcing. Spine aligned, no longer contorting. Inhale as I stretch at my own leisure while I jot down my own story. The words come, only in the moment. I read the lines at the time you do, with our collective pages eternally unfolding.
