The Slumber Ends, Darkness AwakensI am the Oracle of construction. Before the formation of the universe, Space harbored only one organic being.Darkness. Thus with that Darkness, the universe was molded.Today we shall all stand trial. Those whose hands have become tattered by Humanity, the residue of Darkness.Not evil, but DarknessKind, Do not fear the other, the conquistador, the foreigner, the alien,
Fights for AdjustmentI know we fightAnd It gets hard to handleBut I look backAnd your eyes are remindersThat there is far more laughter than troublesThat our love is brighter than shadowsLyrics aren’t meaninglessso if I write this song its because it mattersSometimes I struggle to show my emotionsBut its my way of showing devotionTo a girl who keeps this heart in motionThe simple sway of swimming in the oceanThis love narrative clearly starts in the morningIt ends at night but only for momentLove in entirety fight for adjustment
Unmarked GraveI keep traversing this land of deadBecause I feel like I am awakeBut Every rock that I stumble onFeel the sameI phase right though themThe print carvedreminds me thenI own one tooWithout a name
Race FactoryIs this race, Is this raceIs race crazy?all assembled without linesIs it obvious?That we can see itwithout thinkingfabricated without armsprejudice inside the mindwarning labels are noneI say, Burn down these factoriesthat spill off waste of Racial taxonomy.
Wrist WatchLook at your wristTell me the timeIs that tick-tockblood drippingonto the floor?
WeightI'm thinking this is my last night, hereWill my eyes give in to tearsEven if I reconcile with every monsterLurking happily inside of meCould I return my mindTo a state of psychological harmonyI'm tired of lying awake, looking up at the starsClenching my fist, at a worldThat has done nothing to meCan't I just look awayBlind my self from these thoughtsWhich drive me insaneevery time I am awakeMy arm is beginning to weakenFrom three pounds of death.It needs to be triggeredThe weight falls to ground.
Broken DreamsI know the sound is faintbut all i hear are cries of thunderous animosityit deafens meeven if the light is weakmy eyes pick up the glare nobody else can seem to seeof cheaply made missilesand overused excusesHow can you sleep on this debrison an old handed down mattressstained with all my broken dreamsit bothers meI used to look at the starsthey use to represent to methe number of possibilitiespart of the truth is methe rest is scattered in bottlesswimming oceans and the seasit separates mepart of the lies is methe neurons in my headbegin to give into hypocrisyand it beginsit's failure that's easy to achieve