Works of Society

Love

Decieves me; it's a myth

The only thing existing as such 

Is intangible; unable to be grasped by living souls

It lives in a dream as we live in a nightmare

In a world infused with twisted versions of simple laughter and simple joy

The world, unfocused by tears of sorrow that paint over reality

Drained

Out of the victims that fall asleep on auto-drive

Run

By the enchanting victories of success

Tangled

In traditions, roles, and fall backs

Trapped

Inside the common mind of fools

And there to stay

Drowning from the array of distortions

Gasping to be let free; live free

Live in the name of love, kindness

And escape from the doors of hollow hell

Where life

Is nothing more than it seems to be