I grant to you
No privilege of person
No sense
It comes from all we're giving
In seemingly endless suppply
The unsaid tone of weak despair
Fail to resonate
Frayed
You are all that matters
In my private
Demonology
Those
It's all this reeking ego craves
The sun to never
Insufficient facts
Make up for a frail foundation
Breeding the
Make enemies of truth and reason
In that a rage
Riddled by the trappings of words
that makes the edges
You try to hide
The fact hidden from yourself
Your
A human Force
Stronger than logic beyond the focus
and
Let no one be themselves
Turn of the century lies