Words fall from mouths and die on the ground.
Lips turn sour from the filth pouring across them.
Ears clog up and hear what was never there.
Communication is a ritual each performs
To feel good about, to protect himself.
There was never anything to feel good about, to protect.

All feel the pull from their chest, the urges, desires.
They give in and never control it.
Haughty are they!
For they look to the heart for guidance
It laughs to itself and prances them around on puppet strings
(Cleverly named “heart strings”)
Gaining delight with each fall man makes.
He cannot remove the cords within.

Admiration has always been on “love”.
Hate is self-love, and that is lust.
Lust and love became one when man grabbed it.
Love is hate in its purest form, yet none ever see this.
They will forever hate, unwittingly.

When a pebble is falling through the sky,
It cannot stop itself.
So is man.
Flapping his arms to stop the fall.
Pulling up on his feet to fly.
Of course, they are only weak, and need to flap faster, pull harder.
The origin of East cannot be reached by walking “more East”.
Perfection cannot be achieved by trying harder.
And what are we if not perfect?
Falling. Like a pebble.

Man lives in a dark room.
He picks up shadows and throws them on the wall to improve his situation.
Black begets black. Evil begets evil.
No matter his feigned intentions, this is the way man kills himself.