simplistic in my addictive pretension of apprehensive tension
born tortured within this sick and corrupt system
i hardly have a chance to word this verse
before i'm disturbed by nerves cursed to curse
as i angrily reply to criticism poignantly pointed with little wisdom
i search in the void of my soul at the edge of the cataclysm
not one for activism i prefer to activate the elevation
to bear forth the fruits of unlabored creation
this simulation bears meaning leaving seeming seeds screaming
like the pit of hell with tortured souls toppled and teeming
so this evening i sit and pen a message to the new messiah
with dark thoughts of immenent destruction full of lust and desire
mired in muck and mud my mind manages to mask many meanings
leaving me in a fog of lost thought and pain am i dreaming
to be unconquerable inside this unborn body
i lobby sobbing to be helped by somebody
but oddly a sense of relief engulfs my members
as i remember the timber of my mentors voice slowly as it simmers
"the loss of faith is the doorway the devil enters"