Perception
is a pretty pill
Deception
cures obstinate will
Where greed
is good
Gods reap
the till
‘Till
fathoms free with pressures kill
Tethered to
the march of time
Creatures
kill to fit the crime
We know we
should
What’s
yours is mine
Beating in
the heart divine
Spinning
without rhyme or reason
Time
consumes each fallen season
It’s
understood
That trust
is treason
When dealing
with the side that he’s on
Mind afire
with pointless debate
‘Twixt
conscience and laws of the state
You know we
could
Sans love or
hate
Destroy
what capital creates
