Picture-perfect lives,
The limelight strobes,
The telltale happiness;
Basking in fame,
Basking in glory,
A staple in the norm;
Embodiment of ken,
Unlikely, the blackest of hearts.
What seems out on the surface,
Cannot be par with what is within;
What is found to be a joyous smile,
Is to be a saddened grin.
Yet what matters is what is dumb,
Yet what prevails is what is fake,
Yet what seems gold is really colored stone;
Nothing that happens is what it seems.
I have seen the truth of society!
I have seen the puppeteers behind the strings!
I have seen the death of innocence;
The cadavers of lost greatness!
How are you to impart with me;
A beacon of hope? Oh please!
I have heard enough of your lies!
I have heard enough of your false realities!
But among these objurgations,
I cannot do not one thing.
What bravery one can tell,
Cannot be the same with what he is;
Alas, once more, I end my revolt
Against this cruel nightmare;
I return the mask I wear:
I return the lies I am.
I am tired sitting pretty, watching everything around me rot into anger and despair.
What a nice world it is.