["In time of peril or danger,instincts tell us to flee and reach safety,yet "safety" is merely our own way of falling in the real trap" -Vic]
Broken bits and pieces fall crumbling from the ceiling
As the sky lays its heavy burdens on the roofs.
We all pray towards the sky,thinking of our Gods,
But never do we conceive that the sky might be saturated by our wishes.
Belief is like a fresh piece of bred,
As it slowly disintegrates with the passing of time,
Like the course of a strange poem,stripped of rhyme,
In the hands of a reader that knows the ending ahead.
In conclusion,we should be reticent to judge,
For no one comes and goes and some don't even fudge,
So I blast and curse them all alike,
And in my delusion I dream of their heads on a spike.
As the sky lays its heavy burdens on the roofs.
We all pray towards the sky,thinking of our Gods,
But never do we conceive that the sky might be saturated by our wishes.
Belief is like a fresh piece of bred,
As it slowly disintegrates with the passing of time,
Like the course of a strange poem,stripped of rhyme,
In the hands of a reader that knows the ending ahead.
In conclusion,we should be reticent to judge,
For no one comes and goes and some don't even fudge,
So I blast and curse them all alike,
And in my delusion I dream of their heads on a spike.
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