How dark the world as night still approaches, I look at graves
our morals we ghosted.
Left infested infesting our spirits, digesting our light in decay its invested.
Are we wicked? Or Bested?
By the trickery of the world molested. A feathered pillow lie our heads we rested.
Standing on the precipice of breeding pessimists born into a age of information yet still ignorant.
Oppressively with kids needing therapist.
To cope in a world of divided ugliness
This where the drug reaches, grabs hold until you defeated beaten broken to pieces, Leaves
Alone, lonesome no one knows loneliness as it knows you.
This a lying truth obscured by the lies in truth with the untruth that it brings. Lies without wings, a melody of deceit.
Thoughts butcherer till our ends we meet.
This the sad reality, life our chauffeur while we strapped to the passenger seat.
All we truly have, are  our own beliefs and that beating vessel in our chest. A pulsating heartbeat

Regardless of what is going on in the mind,
irrespective of the fact with what you have got in your mind,
does'nt matter what the present moment in time holds for you,
there will be moments in life when life will come up with surprises.
Surprises which will surprise you enough.

Somethings in life start with something specific in mind
By the time when they end, they end on a completely different note

Strange are the ways of life.
Strange is life,
even uncertain at times,
but then that's life and life continues.