Huddled within boundaries highlighted by the craftier. Stubbornly, yet unwillingly willing, escorted to the connoisseurs of morality. Structured, consistent, but reembodied into randomness, the more the merrier.
Spoiled, unripened, famished and fat.
Pleasant, fresh, fit, chubby and… adolescent.
In the name of manipulation, and its ***** messengers, we honour the catalogued pious. To Venus; the untrue, the shameful, the blasphemous. We serve peace and love, abandon the lies of Gods, join your cherished sisters below.

Holy, we are born. Holy, is our lives. Holy, is our love. Holy, is our sins. Holy, is our suffering. Holy, is our salivation. Graced Mother bestow us with suffering, cleanse us of divinity.

Realities as decomposed societies set, still lives on.
Society is the crossbred of fables and obsolesce.
Reality for the individual differs, believers in disbelief, disbelievers in disbelief.
Belief is six feet below.
Truth for believers lie in realities. Reality for the disbeliever lies in truths.
Atrocious civilisations nearing transcendental ruin, for the pillars are fractured, the bases decayed and the headstones are unbinding.

The words caged within are not to be discussed.
Our minds and hearts are heard and seen through these words, by the deafened and the blind.
No one dares to intrude with caged words.
If set free, they're personal and presumptuousness alluring..
The dilemma still unsolved.

How long must I carry on this charade?! I could end it now! My brain chooses not to... I'm torn apart between this unclear prideful life, and what lies behind the doors.
I knock and knock and knock endlessly, and not a clue still of what lies behind a single door.
There's a gate, a gate wide open and unguarded, but it's so far beyond lines and lines of closed doors.. Yet so apparent to the naked mind, all naked minds!

For I only know God, believe in God, and beseech God, through you, and to you.
For you beam and emit holiness, and sin.
For all the sins I commit in and to your name, will proudly shine.
For I will strangulate your sins to disintegration.
I dub your sins and morality as mirrors of faith.
For divinity, is yours alone.

I loathe the possibilities. I loathe the known and unknown circumstances. I loathe the reasons. I loathe the conclusions. I loathe the recurring scenarios. I loathe the bottomless hell pits. I have yet to learn to loathe the consequences. I loathe you, Anxiety, and I loathe your comrades.

I would love to release whatever unspecified mess, and display whatever inexplicable emotions erupting within my chest..
I would love to be carried away by the eerie winds of despair, whistling throughout the weathered bones of mine.
I would love to erase and disintegrate the haunting memories of past and present times.
I would love to regain innocence, and tackle the constantly inconstant clockwork of my mind.
I would love to embrace the abyss tailing the lightened end of a tunnel, leading to the lightened tunnel beyond the abyss.

In my mind, I'm chained to the bed.
The bed rests on the gallows pole.
The gallows pole adjacent to temples of merciful Gods. Gods nowhere to be seen, heard, or felt.
The senses numb and rust.
The rust dulls the chains, I break free.
I leap faithless off the gallows pole, uncertain of how high it sat on bigots' lap.
I pass by the temples as I dive, no mercy to be found. Idolised figures, sanctified mortals and no sacred Gods.
I'm descending aimlessly.. No ground to be found. Until I feel that skinful ground, until I see the two starry skies and until I hear the heartbeats of mercy, I'm unable to land.

In night, day, morning and imperfect comas.
Recurring three figures of one sole meaning.
Each day, its variety of clouds casts different states of mind.
The unrhythmic, unkind and overwhelmingly melancholic.
The pleasant, warm and astonishingly beautiful.
The timing and place of its occurring, determines whether to reminisce and moisturise one's skin, or to wander through rainy forests of what-ifs, and waterlog one's skin.

We are the race that preferred to let the thoughts of perfectionists lead them to think of their unique bodies and features as mediocre. We've chosen to get rid of our individual smells, to be showered by the chemical spells. We could've bathed in nature, yet we chose to be separated from nature. We look upon ourselves in disgust, and condemned ourselves to insecurity and distress. We chose to break into packs led by the wretched, and driven unto distortion. We've governed the Deities' commandments and set them on demand. We've disfigured the beauty of love, passion, intimacy and beauty itself. We've exploited our home, selves, beings and life!

Laugh and tears equals joy.
Tears and weeping equals morosity.
Tears and laughs and weeping equals madness.
Tears and laughs and weeping and madness equals insanity.
Sanity leads to insanity.

Sorrowful, lustful. Youthful folk, with their youth stolen by prideful sages.
Gluttonous for the lives lacking life.
The chain rusts, greedy oppression in the name of a manipulated definition of God.
Guardians of love, care, mercy, freedom creed armed with Wrath!
Envy rules a kingdom with broken wings.
Progression diagnosed with sloth, and fear.
Seven sins, in the life of the righteous race.

I see, your words are quite clear.
You speak the truth, and I shouldn't disagree.
I'm oblivious to these facts of yours, they're also proven too.
I can understand it's completely unbiased, and definitely not make believe.
"But...." The word of choice, for all the biased, make believe, oblivious, disapproving, contradicted, crystal clear, pain in the **** *perfectionist know it all.

Pale as the pumpkin seed hulls.
Salted covered with tears.
Blustered bloom enchanter.
Grinned, and abolished sins.
Accursed and haunted, those who pestered.
Engulfed in snowy splendour!

I'm me, you, us, I'm them.
I'm the living, the dead, I'm the ever still.
I'm the saint, I'm the wicked, the martyr and the perpetrator.
I'm the Homos, Habilis to Sapiens.
I'm the villain, the savior and victim.
I'm the dictator, the revolution and the people.
I'm anguish and comfort in hearts.
I'm the air, the oxygen, and the carbon dioxide.
I'm the shore, the ocean waves and foam.
I'm the ocean, the depths, the beasts and unknown marvels within.
I'm the ground, the layers of stone, sand and remains.
I'm the earth, the atmosphere, and inner core.
I'm the sun, the explosions, and the ashes of time traveling erupted stars.
I'm the planets, far and near, circulating and in a queue.
I'm the moon, and the dwarf planets.
I'm the pitch black hole, and the morose wormhole.
I'm the solar system, the milky way and its lost siblings.
I'm life in the galaxies.
I'm the universe, and the parallel universe.
I'm the big bang, I'm the end of time.
I am, immortality.

According to the laws of  he who had no essence of the Message he has conveyed, and those who followed with no perceiving, you shall be living in a cell.
You shall inherit the basic rights of thoughtless beings of A mind and hearts, and there are none.
Your goals rest in a shell.
Your thoughts are blasphemous, your love is plain lecherous.
Your Family revolves you, live Your life portraying their professed perfect image.
By their beliefs you shall be mislead, through the labyrinth of the lost ones.
I shall and will deceive, I won’t be clinched to their bare-self creeds.

Emotions never displayed, undeniably disabled.
The masks were sat there, alongside my birth crib...
I should have wore one, and kept another.
Seclusion I never asked for, occupies my realm.
A mediocre jester, to the untroubled Race.
A feeble jester, to the bothered kin.
I lean on anger, and He escapes me.
I borrowed a mask, or two, or three...  None fits, I'll drench in salt instead.

I curse daily
I curse hourly
I curse minutely
I curse secondly.

I curse, to unleash the anger that resides me
I curse, to answer their inquiries
I curse, to flood the barriers of anxiety
I curse, to liberate the love inside me

I have found the friend to echo my sentimentality!