Have you ever met someone that was completely content,
With their love and lifestyle, and all cards that were dealt,
With all faults and regrets and feelings they felt,
Through the whip, the crack, and strike of the belt,
As they knelt down to bow to a God they had known,
To sit above everything on his shiny golden throne,
While the believers carved symbols into their fragile aching bones,
And chanted quiet mantras at inconceivable tones,
They knew they were praying to something that didn’t exist,
When they accepted that, they had hurt their fists,
By throwing punches at walls that were made of bricks,
And now their mentality was too far gone to be fixed,
They gave up on the thought of a lord,
And everyone became extremely bored,
Of repetitive tasks that lead nowhere,
So they all decided to stand there, strip bare,
And **** themselves,
Then they were aware,
That whatever dwells,
In the center of the soul,
Was a cancerous being,
That played a simple role,
A role being that,
Of embers or coal,
It lights the way,
To the final destination,
It helps you and hurts you,
In its cruel manifestation,
This is the truth,
And truth shows the way,
To a simple life,
Of white, black, and gray.