I’ve grown weary of those who claim
A false tense of enlightenment
So bored of vast displays
Of neon pigments and entitlement
For where the fairies walk
And spirit hooded figures talk
I cannot find, cannot divine
Where soul and ego bear to walk…
( in unison )
So permissive is this culture,
That I feel the eyes of vulture
Preying on the weak and un-avowed
In what kind of world is this allowed
(to continue?)
But who am I to question,
The laws, the rites of these transgressions
I am merely just an actor
An inconsequential factor
But I do I dare deny
That in your dogma there’s a lie
For all the glitter in the world
Cannot turn **** into a pearl